Genesis
by Forestwater
Summary: "Nothing...can travel at the speed of light, they say, forgetful of the shadow's speed." The goddesses that made the Triforce didn't consider something darker being forged to counter it. The result is terror, and the story of those who tried to escape it.
1. The Dark Triforce

A/N: This is the prequel of _The Dark Triforce_, a LoZ story involving Link, Zelda, and the rest. This, however, goes into Zelda's parents and attempts to add backstory to a made-up plot. It will be long, which might be difficult for people looking for the original characters. But it's a prequel, so not much else can be expected. Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

"Demi!" Dimitri straightened, looking around for the voice. "Demi!" A three-year-old waddled out of a nearby hut. She hugged him around the knees. "Where ya goin'?" she asked, looking up at him with her blue eyes filled with adoration.

Dimitri laughed and placed her on his shoulders. "To school."

She stared down at him, pulling at his hair. "Why?"

"Because I have to, that's why."

"Oh." She looked down at him, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed in a thoughtful expression that was far too old for her face. "Do ya have to go really soon?"

He shrugged, rocking back on his heels and making her squeal with a combination of delight and terror. "Not really," he said, grinning up at her.

She smiled, her pudgy cheeks dimpling. "Can we go in the water?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he tossed his head like a horse's and charged into the ocean. Waves crashed over them, and he threw her into the air, catching her again a second later. "Go horsy!" she cried, kicking the sides of his neck and giggling.

"Emilia!" The voice cut through the air, making them both flinch. A young woman with hair tied in a tight bun ran down to them, stopping at the water. "Demi, give her to me."

He handed Emilia to her. "Jeez, Zel," he said, giving her a wounded look so exaggerated that Emilia burst into hysterical laughter, squirming in the woman's arms.

Unamused, she stared at him, her eyes blue and green and irritated. "You could have gotten her killed," she said, her words clipped. "And aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"Aren't you?"

She looked down. "Can't. I have to work."

"Don't you _ever_ take a break?"

"Who has time for breaks?" She looked puzzled, as if the issue had really never occurred to her before. "Everyone must work."

Demi shrugged. "Well, sure, but look at me, Zelda. I take breaks. I have fun."

"You do." The _but you are a lazy bum and are destined for the poorhouse _was implied. "But not all of us have the luxury."

He kicked at the water, splashing up droplets that glittered in the sun. They were beautiful, but Zelda didn't see them. Her gaze cut through the drops without taking them in, her brows furrowed into lines far too deep for someone so young. "Hey, Zel? Why don't you come out with me tonight? You're not working after ten, are you?"

She opened her mouth to argue, then saw something like sincerity on Demi's face and merely shook her head. He grinned and continued, "Then come out around eleven. Meet me right here." He waited a minute for her to complain, roll her eyes, say anything, but she didn't. After a moment he said, "Fun isn't a luxury, Zel. It's a right and a responsibility." He leaned in and put his forehead against hers, noticing but ignoring Emilia's giggle. "Besides, too much worry will wrinkle that pretty little forehead of yours and turn your hair all gray. And what kind of girl wants that?"

With a gasp of disgust and horror, she shoved him away. "Of all the —" She was sputtering, her face bright red. Still, he'd seen the corners of her mouth twitch. He _had._

So he knew she'd be there. She'd be short-tempered and huffy, but he could handle that.

He'd had years of experience.

* * *

Zelda looked up at the sky, her eyes wide and sparkling. "It's so beautiful," she breathed, digging her toes into the soft white sand.

Demi smirked at her. "Is this enjoyment that I'm seeing, Zel? Are you having fun?"

She looked at him, surprised and a little scandalized. "I can have fun," she said, fiddling with her hair. "Just never with you."

"Pull that bun out," he said. "I think it's cutting off the circulation to your brain. It's a tragic thing, really. Kills your 'fun gland'. I think it's reversible, though. If you'd just —" He reached over and grabbed her hair, trying to remove the band of leather keeping her hair in place.

She twisted away from him with a shriek that almost — _almost_ — turned into a laugh. Her fingers danced in elegant spirals around her bun, releasing the silvery-blonde hair in a curtain that hung around her face and draped over her shoulders. It made her look years younger. "There. Does this satisfy you?"

"It does," he said cheerfully, and continued walking along the waterline. After a few moments of deliberation, she followed, keeping her gaze divided between the water and the sky and far from his own. He waited for her to say something, but she seemed happy with the silence, so he spoke. "You're looking around like you haven't lived here your whole life."

"It feels like I haven't," she said. "Everything's so wonderful and new. I . . . I guess I never looked at it before. The water, though . . . do you see the sparkles? And the sky! So many stars!" She craned her head back, looking up with childlike wonder.

"This is what the real world looks like, Zelda. You'd appreciate it a lot more if you didn't wander around with your panties in a wad all the time."

She froze, the look of awe wiped off her face as though with a rag. Her cheeks flushed bright red, and she glared at him for a moment in speechless horror. Then she turned around, her wave of hair hitting him in the face, and stormed up the beach.

He hurried after her, kicking up sand and water. "Zel? Zel! Come back! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry! _I'M SORRY!" _He grabbed her arm and turned her around. She glowered down at their feet, her breasts heaving with indignation and fury. He held her shoulders and spoke in a low, fast rush. "Listen, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I . . . I don't talk to many girls, so I forget that you can't say certain things to girls that you can say to guys. I'm sorry." This last sounded so plaintive, like a little boy who knows he's done something wrong but doesn't know how to fix it; he only knows that saying "I'm sorry" is supposed to make things right somehow.

She looked up at him, the anger fading from her eyes. "You talk about your male friends' panties?" she asked, a hint of a smile on her face.

"Well, no. Not really. But guys talk about different stuff than girls do. You know?"

"Of course I do." Zelda held her head high and fixed her gaze once more on the water. "Girls talk about . . . about more civilized things."

He sidestepped so that he was closer to her. "What do you and your friends talk about?"

Once again he saw a hint of pink spread across her face and neck. "A lot!"

His hand slipped into hers as he stopped walking. She slowed, too, her hand limp and cold in his. "Zel, I know you don't have any friends."

Like lightning, she snatched her hand away from him. "Of course I do!" she snarled. "And we talk all the time! About arts. And . . . and literature."

"I don't think conversations with Emilia about 'Binky the Big Goron' count here."

"I have friends!"

"Name some." His voice was soft but insistent, and she looked away.

"T-there's . . . Ravena, and . . ."

Dimitri stopped walking, their conversation forgotten. "What's that?"

She whirled around and scrambled to his side. "What's what?" she asked with a far-from-subtle sigh of relief.

"That." It was lying about thirty yards away, a shiny spot nestled in a crater of dry sand, like someone had dropped it there. He jogged up to it and knelt down, his fingers almost brushing its glossy surface. From here, the moonlight didn't reflect off of it and turn it silver, and he could see that it was actually black. It was cut into a perfect triangle.

Zelda stood over him, craning her neck to see it. "It would make a nice paperweight, I suppose." She looked out at the water, which was lapping at their toes and turning hers numb. "It must have washed in from the ocean."

"No, that doesn't make sense. We're at high tide right now, and this is still in the dry sand." He looked up at the sky. "Could it have fallen? That's a pretty deep hole it made. . . ."

Zelda shrugged, shivering. "When did it get cold?"

Dimitri plopped onto the sand, sitting cross-legged, and patted the ground next to him. "Plenty of sand for everyone, Zel." He leaned over it, shifting his upper body from side to side and watching the moonlight slide across its surface. "I guess it's kind of pretty."

"Kind of." She sat down next to him, tucking her skirt over her knees and under her thighs. "It looks cold, though. Is it?" Her hand reached out to touch it, then pulled back. "Oh!" She grabbed his arm; her palm was as cold as the water on their feet. "It's freezing!"

"Really?" He held his hand above it. "What are you talking about? It's radiating warmth."

She looked at him with huge blue eyes. "But I couldn't even _touch_ it, it was so cold. How . . . ?"

He pressed his palm against the triangle. "It's warm," he said. "Not quite _hot, _but warm." He picked it up and held it in both hands. "Heavy, too."

"I don't understand." Zelda tried once again to touch it, but shook her head and pulled back. "No, this is . . . weird. I don't like it. It's still far too cold for me."

Dimitri tossed it from one hand to the other. "Well I like it," he said. "I think it's cool." He held it up to the light, appraising it. "And it _would_ make a nice paperweight."

Zelda grabbed his arm, afraid and not sure why. "No, Demi, please don't. I'll buy you a better paperweight, I promise. Prettier . . . or cooler, or something. But just throw that thing into the ocean. It doesn't make sense."

"You have to have everything make sense, Zel?" he said, and turned to smile at her. She thought it was supposed to be friendly, or teasing, or something, but it just came across as menacing. "Consider this as something to challenge that huge brain of yours: _How can something reach the beach without coming from the ocean, and how can it be both ice-cold and warm as a wool sweater?_" He laughed, sounding a little strange. "It's like an ancient joke. Riddle me this, Zelda."

"I don't care what the answer is," she said, backing away. "I just want that thing away from me."

He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay, Zel." He slipped it into his pocket. "It's like it was never there." But she could see the outline of it poking against the fabric of his shorts, and didn't like the way he was still smiling at her, like this was one big hilarious joke at her expense. He held out his hand to her. "Would you like to keep walking?"

Part of her did. Part of her really liked Dimitri, and thought that he was the only human contact she was likely to have above the age of four and below the age of forty. That part of her kept noticing that his arms were tanned and somewhat muscled, and wondered what kind of physical labor he did, and how she'd never seen him at it; she worked everywhere, and had seen all the other people their age at their daily jobs. That part of her also liked the funny way his black hair curled down over his forehead, and around his ears, and . . . well, it curled in every direction. It was cute, a hint of childish innocence that appealed to her the way the splash of cinnamon-colored freckles across his nose and cheeks appealed to her. It made him look young and unworried, the exact opposite of herself. There was something she liked about that. Besides, she had the sneaking suspicion that he wanted to kiss her — had for a while, actually. And now that she knew he wasn't just some good-for-nothing jerk, or a bum . . . maybe she wouldn't mind that.

But as she looked down at his hand, the part of her that wasn't admiring how strong and solid it looked knew that it would be warm. Far warmer than it should be. And she knew that she would feel that warmth pressing against her own skin, like it was trying to burrow into her, and if they went walking down the street, her thigh might brush against his, and she would feel the strange dark triangle against her, and that would be too much to stand. It would make her scream, she knew it.

Also, she didn't like the turn he was taking. There was something about his attitude that scared her. She supposed it could have always been there, and only came out of its dormancy because he wasn't getting his way, but she didn't believe that. She thought it had something to do with that weird triangle, that relic cast from the ocean or sky, and until it was gone, she didn't want any part of this new Dimitri. So she stepped back, mumbled, "No, thank you, I have to get to bed," and hurried back up the beach, kicking up sand the entire way.

* * *

Dimitri knocked on the door to the small hut the next afternoon. "Zelda?" he called. There was no answer. "Zel?" He opened the door.

It was empty.

"Dimitri? What are you doing here?" He turned around to see Zelda's mother in the doorway, holding a basket of fruit. She looked at him, confused.

"I'm looking for Zelda."

She cocked her head to the side. "Oh, you just missed her. She didn't say where she was going, but I'm sure she hasn't gone far. I'd check around her usual places — she's probably working, of course." Her eyes grew distant and a little misty. "Such a hard-working girl," she murmured. "I don't know what we'd do with her."

"That's . . . that's wonderful," he said. He looked down at the floor, where there was a lone sock lying on the wood. "Did she . . . pack?"

"Oh, yes. She said she'd be working overnight somewhere, and packed up a bag to take with her. It was a lot for just one night; I think she's working on something down by the beach, or possibly inland, near the swamps, and didn't want to sleep in messy clothing. She's so clever that way."

"Yes. Of course she is." Unwilling to waste his entire day listening to a prematurely senile woman prattle on about the praises of Zelda, and feeling the growing concern that the woman was very mistaken about Zelda's whereabouts and intentions, he thanked her and hurried out the door as fast as politeness would allow.

* * *

Zelda peered around the corner of her house and watched Dimitri enter. Praying to Din that he didn't see her, she ran to his hut on top of the hill. The folded paper was clutched in her hand, covered in sweaty fingerprints, and when she reached his front door, she unfolded it and re-read what she had written:

_Demi —_

_I'm gone by now. You probably know that already, but if you don't, you deserve to know. My family doesn't, and I beg you not to tell them. They'll find out soon enough, and I don't want you to be the one who has to bear the bad news. Please help them if you can, but I know that you have your grandfather to worry about. My affairs are as settled as they can be, and I left what I could to them._

_I have to leave. I'm afraid, and I don't want to be on the same island with that thing. I know you don't understand, and that this seems like some silly whim to you, but it's real to me. I'm scared, Demi, and it's just getting worse with every second I stay here. Please try to understand, and if you can, try to forgive me._

_— Zelda_

She considered writing some sort of post-script, something to tell him that he meant more to her than anyone who wasn't her family - not just because he was the only person outside of her family to talk to her, but because he seemed to care about her happiness. Or had, for an hour or two.

Zelda looked down at the last paragraph — _I'm scared, Demi — _and ripped it off the paper, folding it up and slipping it into her apron pocket. That was stupid, and weak, and there was absolutely no point in keeping it. He wouldn't care, anyway. He was changing, and she had the feeling that he would care about less and less as the days went by.

She slipped the torn note between the door and its frame and turned toward the docks. If she could get out before he found the note, she would be free.

* * *

_She's gone._

_She's left for good._

_What do I do now?_

Dimitri ignored these thoughts for the most part. They wouldn't do him any good, and they came from a dark corner of his mind. If he poked around those thoughts for too long, frightening things might crawl up out of the darkness. Things like maybe Zelda had a reason for leaving, and maybe the reason was a good one.

And that maybe that reason had something to do with the increasingly warm, metallic triangle that he had in his pocket.

There were other, more frivolous things hidden in that corner, though. Things about her hair, silvery and shiny and somehow the exact same color in both sunshine and moonlight. Her smile, rare and reluctant, yet bright and sunny despite her best attempts to keep it down. Her eyes, her breasts, her personality, which had just seemed to be appearing from under an iron shell of workaholism. He'd started to like them all about a year ago, when she had begun taking care of Emilia, who had very recently graduated from his swim class. Now . . . they were part of his routine, and it would be strange without them.

He reached the docks, which were never very lively (there was little their small town had to offer beyond seafood and swamp) but today were dead. Zelda was easy to spot, even with the hood of her cloak pulled up over her head; she was the only person out there. Later, the docks would be swarming with fishermen home from the ocean, trying to get everything packaged away for market, and earlier there would have been the men trying to sell there wares. Had Zelda tried to leave then, he would never have been able to find her. Now, however, there was only one lonely fisherman waiting, trying to find someone to sell his last few fish to.

She was standing near one of the few boats waiting to depart. _Mian Islands to Hyrule, _the poorly-carved wooden sign said. No one waited to get on with her. The boat was almost empty, too; Piquo, their home island, must have been the very first stop.

"Zelda!"

She turned, and he thought he saw her cringe. She muttered something to the captain, who held up one hand and then went onto the ship. She ushered him over. "Demi, I have five minutes. What is it?"

"Why are you going?"

"I just have to," she said, glancing down at his pocket. The triangle had gotten even warmer now, almost unpleasantly so. "I can't stay here forever."

"Why not? What else do you have to do?" When she didn't answer, he took her by the upper arm. "Listen, Zelda, your family needs you. Your mom said, 'I don't know what we'd do without her.' Do you have _any _idea how selfish your being, leaving your poor mother to work on her own?"

She pulled away from him. "Don't you dare try to guilt me into this! You're the one who's chasing me off this island!"

He froze. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," she snarled. She reached into her apron and pulled out a ripped piece of paper. "There's something wrong with that" — she pointed to his pocket, where the outline of the object was visible — "and there's something wrong with you. Fuck you, Demi. I'm leaving." She shoved the piece of paper into his hand and ran for the boat.

* * *

Dimitri wandered back down the beach. It was late. Midnight? Maybe later? It didn't matter, anyway. He wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon, so why not wander and enjoy the night?

He didn't understand what Zelda's problem was. She was being ridiculous, acting all scared of nothing. Hell, she was being insane. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the object. It was warm, and seemed to vibrate whenever he spoke. "You're nothing to be scared of," he said, and it thrummed. "Just a pretty little paperweight, right?" He held it and angled it to the moonlight so that he could see his reflection. "There I am," he said with a smile. "Nothing to be be scared of, either."

His reflection smiled back at him, then swam and distorted. He watched, fascinated, as it blurred. His hair turned from black to brown, and his eyes flashed a muddy red. Though Dimitri's smile had faded, the reflection beamed brighter, its lips pulling back to reveal yellowed fangs. They dripped with something that looked black in the waning moonlight. At the same time the triangle grew unbearably hot. He yelped and dropped it, where it glittered in the sand, looking helpless and shiny.

He sat down in front of it, reached out to pick it up, and then pulled away. "What is it about you?" he asked. "What _are_ you?"

_Well, _his mind — at least, he assumed it was his mind — said, _you'll never know unless you touch it, right?_

Dimitri picked it up. It had gone back to its normal temperature, and was comforting against the ocean spray and the cold sand. And, when he turned it to face the light, his reflection had returned to normal, too. "What . . . what do you want?" He felt stupid asking it, considering that he was supposed to be a mature, sane young adult, but it was hard the shake the feeling that the triangle was sentient. "Vibrate once for yes, twice for no?"

_"I can do better than that."_

Dimitri looked around. That had definitely been an audible voice, but there was nothing there. The triangle suddenly thrummed, shaking in his hands hard enough that he almost dropped it. Clutching it with fingers that were beginning to shake, he stared down at it with wide eyes. "Uh . . . triangle?" he said, feeling more unsure by the minute. Why hadn't he just thrown it into the ocean in the first place?

_"I can help you."_

It began to get warmer, to the point where it almost hurt, but instead of letting go, he held on tighter, grimacing as his skin slowly began to blister.

_"I can save you."_

The heat suddenly became searing, to the point where Dimitri expected it to burst into flame. He moaned, bending over double and clutching the relic to his chest.

_"I can make you more than you could ever imagine."_

"What are you?" he gasped around a tongue that felt like it was on fire.

_"I am the Dark Triforce. That is all you need to know."_

"Demi! DEMI!"

Hands grabbed his shoulders and tightened into little claws, the fingernails digging into his flesh. He turned around and face his assailant. His eyes locked on hers, and his face relaxed. It wasn't relaxed like he'd felt relief from the burning; it was like he had somehow been drugged.

"Emilia?" His face smiled, and it looked perfectly natural — at least around the mouth. If she'd followed the smile up to his eyes and seen that they were cold and dead, she probably would have started screaming. However, her three-year-old mind saw a smiley mouth and a familiar face and didn't bother to look deeper, and so she beamed. His arms picked her up and set her on his hip, bouncing her up and down once or twice. "What are you still doing up? You should be sleeping."

"Sleepin'," she giggled. "I wanna be 'wake."

His body set her on the ground. "You need to get to bed, Emilia. It's late, and I don't really have time to play with you."

Her eyes widened and misted. "But . . . I wanna."

_I wanna. _Probably the two most annoying words in any language. Dimitri's mouth smiled, though, and said, "Sure, Emilia. Why not go swimming?"

"Will you come?" She hugged his neck, her body warm and wiggly and sandy. His eyebrows furrowed into a grimace for a second. Still his mouth said, "Of course, Emilia. I was counting on it."

By the time Dimitri became aware of what he was doing, Emilia's body was cold and still, sand caked to her wet body and stuck in her unseeing eyes and gaping mouth, and there was a black triangle etched into his hand.

* * *

A/N: I decided to cut the first chapter into two, because I beefed it up a lot and almost doubled the original in length. I hope that's not too much of a problem for anyone who has already read the beginning or the entire thing.


	2. TDT Part II

Zelda sat on the edge of the deck, leaning over the railing and looking out at the water. In the distance she could make out flickering lights, though she couldn't tell yet what they were. Either a forest was on fire, or she was getting her first glimpse of a city.

"Miss?"

She looked up, her eyes widening. She relaxed a bit; for a second she'd expected to see Dimitri, his hair dripping with salty water. Still, there was nothing she wanted to do less at that moment than talk to anyone. "What," she said, flattening the word.

"May I sit?" a young man asked. He was wearing a dark cloak, so she couldn't see his face beyond a larger-than-average nose that stuck out into the light. The only distinguishing object that she could see was a large silver ring on his right middle finger. The center was some large green-and-blue stone. She'd never seen anyone wearing something so rich. She shrugged and ducked her head, very aware of her plain peasant dress, apron, and leather shoes, all of which were smudged with dirt and coated with a thin layer of sand.

He sat across from Zelda and studied her. She pulled her hair out of its leather band and pulled it over both shoulders so it would hide her face somewhat. "You can call me James," he said.

"Zelda," she muttered, unsure of how to talk to someone of such high social standing. Whoever this man was, he was certainly no Dimitri. Was she supposed to call him "sir"?

He didn't seem to think that she was disrespectful. On the contrary, he seemed perfectly at ease. Maybe it was something about being rich that made one friendly. "I'm from Hyrule," he said. "Well, the mainland. What about you?"

"Piquo."

"Oh! That little shore? I love it there!" He went on about how lovely it was, how the weather was never too hot or cold, and how the people were always so nice. "They _do _all seem to be a little monosyllabic," he said, grinning. "I suppose it's a shared trait?"

It sounded like her neighbors to fall silent under the gaze of such a clearly noble personage; she wasn't surprised that he didn't get much in the way of conversation out of them. "I suppose so," she said, trying not to sound offended.

James told a story about a drunken pirate he'd met — or maybe it was about his toe fungus; Zelda wasn't listening. She stared out the window, drinking in the sights and sounds and making an occasional "Uh-huh" or "Hmm" whenever it seemed appropriate. Every once in a while thoughts of Dimitri or the strange object would flit across her mind, but whenever that happened she would turn her ears toward James and catch a random phrase or two, and the thoughts would dart back into whatever dreary, dank place they'd come from.

"Miss Zelda? May I ask you a rather personal question?"

Zelda turned to him, her shoulders hunched. "You can ask," she said, wondering what it could be about. Her friends or family? What she did for fun? Why she left Piquo? That seemed most likely, since he was enamored with the place. She had no idea what she could say to him. She'd have to make up something.

"You haven't said more than two words since I sat down," he said.

"That's not a question." Still, she relaxed. Whatever he had to ask couldn't be worse than what she'd thought.

"I was getting to it. Do I make you nervous or something? Angry, maybe? Or do you all just have very short conversations in Piquo?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but found that she had nothing to say. "You don't make me angry," she said, and turned back to the view. "And you don't make me nervous anymore."

"Why not?" he asked.

Zelda turned to him, and though she couldn't see where his eyes were, she tried to meet them, and smiled. "I learned that you're human."

* * *

The boat lurched to stop, bobbing in the clear water. He got up and waited. Zelda lay slouched against the railing, where she had slumped about a half hour after they'd finished talking. He cleared his throat. Nothing. "Miss Zelda?"

She started, and turned around. He was surprised yet again at her shockingly blue eyes. "What?"

"We're at Hyrule."

"Oh! Thanks." She brushed past him and onto the landing pier. He followed her, not _exactly _because she was pretty and he liked her. It was mostly because they happened to be going in the same direction, more or less, and she didn't seem like she had ever stepped off of Piquo in her entire life. If she needed a helping hand, he wanted to be there. He noted that she didn't move with the delicacy of most nobles or even common citizens. She loped along with the grace of a Goron, completely unaware of anyone she brushed past.

They slipped through the crowds and out of the seaside village, entering the huge, empty plains of Hyrule Field. Zelda paused at the edge of the field, her eyes huge at the sight of the sea of grasses. He knew that there was nothing that even came close to this on her home island. He was debating whether or not to go talk to her when some guy the size of a small house smashed into her on his way out of the village.

"Hey!" he yelled drunkenly, waving his arms. He looked down at her and smiled slowly, revealing yellow teeth. "What do we have here?"

* * *

"Whazza purdy thang like yeh doin' 'round 'ere all by yerself?" he slurred, leaning in close to Zelda. The scent of alcohol was enough to make her eyes water and her throat tighten with thirst. She needed a good drink.

She puffed out her chest and grinned up at him. Ah, no rich nobleman to deal with here. She could handle drunken louts with ease; she'd been one a time or two, when her parents were asleep and the workload was too much to handle. At times like that, when she'd wanted to cry with stress and exhaustion, the guitar wafting on ocean breezes from the bar was like a siren's call to a lonely virgin. "Who says I'm by myself?" she asked, stepping in close to him. "I'm with you, aren't I?"

"I . . . y'are?"

"Mmm-hmm." She hooked her arm through his, and when he didn't grab her right then and there, she knew she'd guessed right about his character. This man wasn't some sort of rapist or murderer — he was just some guy who'd had a little too much beer and a little too little touch. "You sure your girlfriend won't mind?" she crooned, hoping against hope that he did _have_ a girlfriend.

"Who? Clarine?" For a second he looked nervous, and tugged at the collar of his shirt. "She here?"

She shrugged. "I just saw some beautiful girl poking around looking for you. Is that her?" When his eyes widened she glanced over her shoulder at the throng and pointed. "There, see? She doesn't look very happy . . ."

He shoved her away, flinging her to the ground, and sprinted into the group of people. She heard him shout, "I didn't mean it, Clarine, I swear! She —" before he was swallowed up by the crowd.

Zelda sighed, and sniffed her shoulder, which had been pressed into his armpit when she'd linked arms with him. It smelled like beer and male sweat, and she cringed. "Did you ever see those kinds of 'quaint little townsfolk' when you visited Piquo? Because chances are that they were crawling around somewhere."

* * *

He froze. Damn. She wasn't talking to him, was she?

Zelda turned and looked at him, but since she looked more entertained than angry, he shook his head. "No, Miss, I didn't, but I'm sure they were not as bad as that foul —"

_"'That'_ was just a normal man. There was nothing wrong with him," she said, her eyes suddenly cold rather than amused. "Why have you been following me?"

"I . . . don't know." He didn't need to see her eyes narrow to know that that was a bad answer. "Well, I mean, you didn't seem like you had anywhere to go, and you looked sort of lost, so I was going to make sure you were all right. I wasn't sure you could take care of yourself — but I was wrong, of course, that was wonderful the way you handled him — and so I just . . . you know . . ." He was digging his own grave. "I wanted to help," he finished.

"Thank you, _sir_, but I doubt that Hyrule is that dangerous. I've seen worse back in the bar at Piquo. Hell, I've _been —" _She stopped and looked away. "Everyone here seems like a pushover to me."

"You've been here for maybe half an hour. That's not a very long time. And there _are _more dangerous people." He felt a sudden need to protect his people . . . by proving they were dangerous. Odd, how life turned like that.

"Really. Like who?"

"The Gerudo." He said this in a dramatic whisper, certain the women's fame had spread far beyond Hyrule's mainland borders.

Her eyebrows twitched up. "The who?"

"They're . . . they're fighters. And they're scary. And they could attack us at any moment. So you should be wary." After a moment of silence, where she looked unimpressed and he felt like more of a loser than he'd ever expected to that day, he said, "Do you have a place to stay?"

"Not yet," she said. "But believe me, I'm working on it. If anything I can always go find that drunk guy. He seemed pretty hospitable . . ."

"Why don't you come with me? I can give you a room and a couple of meals, if you'd like. It's too late to try and find a place tonight."

She shook her head. "No, thank you. I don't trust anyone whose face I can't see. At least, not enough to go home with them."

He shrugged. "Okay, Miss Zelda. If you insist." He pulled his hood down, and she saw his face. His nose was long and a little thick, and easily the most defining feature of his face. But when she looked past that at his eyes, she noticed that they were gray and rather pale. In fact, everything about him was a little pale, from his blond hair to his skin, which was fairer than any she'd ever seen on her island of near-constant sun. He was a little older than she was — if she had to guess, she'd peg him at about twenty-two or so — and soft, like he'd never really done much in the way of work. He smiled, and she noticed that, though his teeth were all white, they were a little crooked, and he had a slight gap between his top front teeth that made him look much younger. "Now," he said. "Will you come stay at my home? Trust me, there are plenty of rooms."

"I'm sure there are," she said. "It's one of the benefits of being rich, right?"

He laughed. "Of course. Why else would we bother?" He winked at her and put a hand on her back. "May I escort you, Miss Zelda, through Hyrule Castle Market Town, this lovely village we're coming up upon?"

"It looks locked," Zelda said, looking up at the drawbridge.

"Allow me." He rapped three times, hard, on the drawbridge, and a soldier poked his head over the wall.

"State your name and business."

"The prince. Royal business." Zelda froze and stared at him, her eyes huge with incredulity. She didn't look away from his face as they passed into the town, nor did she even glance at the cute little houses that lined the market square. As they walked, he cleared his throat and looked down at the cobblestones beneath their feet. "Yes?" he asked, a faint pink spreading over his ears and down his neck.

"You're a liar."

He cleared his throat. "Yes, I suppose I am," he said. "And I am sor —"

"You're not the prince."

He stopped mid-sentence, and turned to stare at her. "What?" He gestured to himself. "You have seen me. You must know that I'm the prince."

"No," she said. "I may not know what the prince looks like, but every fool knows that his name is Daphnes Nohanson Hyrule. You're not him."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He reached into one of his cloak pockets and pulled out a thin gold crown, setting it on top of his head. "My name _is_Daphnes," he said, "much to my shame. And I _am _the prince of Hyrule."

There was a moment of silence as she puzzled that out, and then she shook her head. "Farore," she whispered. "But . . . why did you lie, then? And why were you wearing that cloak?"

He turned to her then, his eyebrows raised. "Miss Zelda, if I had walked up to you and said, 'Hello, I am Daphnes Hyrule,' would you have said two words to me?" When she didn't respond, he nodded. "There's something about royalty that makes life outside the castle a lot more difficult. I just don't want the trouble." He picked up a pebble and threw it into the town square's fountain, staring down at the ripples it made. "James was my uncle, actually," he said. "A wonderful man, before he died."

"I-I'm sorry," Zelda said, feeling both guilty and a little awkward at the sudden maudlin moment.

He shook his head. "I chose the name because he was always confident. I like the feeling I get when I remember him." He shrugged and looked down again. "I like being confident."

"You're not usually?"

"I don't know," he said, and looked up at her with a pleading, puppy-dog expression. "I suppose not. Right now I feel like a fool."

She smiled at him, and held out her arm. "Weren't you going to escort me to your home, Your Highness?"

* * *

It was huge. Zelda knew that she probably shoudl have guessed that, considering he was a prince, but she still hadn't imagined the hugeness of the castle. It was colossal. Enormous. It was almost as big as Piquo.

Daphnes noticed her expression and blushed. "It's not as scary as it looks," he said.

"It looks terrifying."

"Trust me, the scariest thing in here is my mother." He nodded at two of the guards, who pulled open the doors. Zelda would have made a comment about how he couldn't even open his own door, but her mind was preoccupied with panicking.

"The . . . the queen? That means . . . there's a king. I'm in the same building as our king."

He looked at her, puzzled. "Yes, of course. They're my parents. Would you like to meet them?"

She stared at him. "Meet . . . the king? No, that's okay. I don't . . ."

He shook his head. "Nonsense. You have to meet them."

Zelda dug her heels into the floor, shaking her head. "How could I? Talk to the . . . oh, goddess, oh Din, I couldn't . . ."

Daphnes shook his head. "What is it about money and status that frightens you so?"

She snapped out of her panic for a moment and glared at him. "If you didn't have any, you'd be scared of it, too."

"You're not afraid of me."

"You're not scary."

He sighed. "Come on, Miss Zelda. You don't even have to say anything. Just stand behind me and look small and helpless."

"No problem there," she muttered, as he opened another door and ushered her into what he said was the throne room.

It was huge, of course; how could it have not been? There were intricate tapestries on the walls, depicting war and legendary heroes she didn't recognize. The floor and walls were marble, and only a few small windows let in any natural light. The rest came from a crystal chandelier, its candles casting the chamber in an orange glow. On the other side of the room, two giant thrones sat side by side. They were covered in red and purple velvet and were gilded with gold thread. In these thrones sat the King and Queen. They were leaning close to one another, whispering. The Queen's face was lined with worry, the King's with exasperation.

Daphnes cleared his throat, jolting them from their conversation. The Queen looked up, a smile lighting her weary face, and hurried over to them. She had a cute, motherly look about her that set Zelda at ease. She'd been expecting someone imposing and beautiful, with long legs and a thin face that looked predatory. This woman was short and plump, with thin blonde hair and bright gray eyes. "Daphnes!" she cried. Her yellow gown rustled as she wrapped her arms around him. She glanced at Zelda and let go, her eyebrows raised. She didn't look especially displeased about Zelda's presence, but wasn't giving her a welcoming look.

The Queen called out to her husband, "Myran, Daphnes is home!"

"I can see that, Doris," he said, and stood. Unlike his wife, he was tall and thin, with a long beard. "The boy is safe, as I promised he would be. He is not incompetent."

"Hello, father," Daphnes mumbled, bowing his head.

The King smiled, and his face was transformed into something warm and loving. "Hello, son. Did you have a productive journey?"

"Yes, father. The Miians are thoroughly against the Democrens. They will not secede from Hyrule even if their neighbors do. I have a full report . . ." He began rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. "I must have left it with one of the council members," he said, looking up with a sheepish shrug.

"And where would they be?"

"Well . . . I may have let them travel home on another boat. So that they wouldn't have to worry about me."

The Queen let out a scandalized cry, and moved to clutch Daphnes to her again. "My poor Daphnes! All alone, with no one to protect him from the ugly people —"

Zelda kept her gaze on the floor, but watched her out of the corner of her eye. Was she one of those 'ugly people' the Queen was talking about?

The King sighed. "Yes, yes, we'll deal with that later. In the meantime, you might do well to explain the girl who came in with you."

"Uh, this is Zelda. I met her on the boat. Zelda—" He elbowed her in the side, forcing her to look up. She tried to get rid of the deer-in-the-headlights look that she could feel on her face, but it was difficult, because whenever she tried to think of them as regular people, she would remember that they were the King and Queen, and she'd feel the urge to run. "This is my mother." She nodded, the movement stiff and jerky. "And this is my father."

"It's nice to meet you," The King said, smiling thinly. Zelda decided he wasn't too bad.

The Queen, however, was another story. She held out her hand. Zelda stared at it for a moment, and then shook it hesitantly. The Queen's nose wrinkled, and she knew that she had made a mistake. "And what is she doing here?" Daphnes mother asked.

"Zelda needed somewhere to stay, and so I said she could. Stay here, I mean." He looked at Zelda with an uneasy smile.

"Oh. Can you come here, please?" The Queen grabbed Daphnes by the arm and led him and the King away, leaving Zelda alone in the strange room.

"I thought she was supposed to be an expert diplomat," Zelda mumbled, wanting to explore the tapestries on the wall or the thrones but afraid to move. "Shouldn't she be nice to all the little commoners?" Now that they were out of the room, she could breathe more easily.

She could hear the Queen's voice, saying something about how the castle was meant to be preserved as sacred, and how it wasn't "just a hotel for peasants off a boat! Think of the diseases she could have, Myran!" The Queen wasn't even bothering to keep her voice down, and Zelda wrapped her arms around herself for the scant protection it offered.

"Way to suck up to the locals," she said with a sigh.

* * *

"What's going on?"

"I have no idea."

"I heard something."

"I heard singing."

"No, it was a scream."

"I thought there was a fight."

"What's going on?"

Ugh. Dimitri lifted his head from the ground. He stared blankly at the waves, trying to think. The voices were coming from somewhere to his right. He didn't have the energy to look. Beams of light chased each other down the beach, and it took Dimitri a moment to recognize them as torchlight. They were coming closer.

He sat up. Emilia's body lay only a few feet away, the sand around her dark with water. He looked away, guilt and sadness overwhelming him. "What do I do?" he whispered, shaking his head.

_Get out of here._

"Shut up," he moaned, resting his head on his knees. "Please, just shut up."

_They're going to be here any minute. Get out. _He heard the murmur of voices grow louder, and his eyes strayed unwillingly to Emilia's body. They would never forgive him for this. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't be able to forgive them, either. He'd want them dead.

"Where do I go?"

_Get onto the water. I will lead you from there. There is an island. _With that he saw a picture, beautiful in its simplicity, drawn in messy watercolors. A smooth bell curve of white sand. Brown crooked lines with splotches of green and purple. Green water. Blue sky. White clouds. _I can get you to safety._

A scream broke Dimitri out of his trance. He shook his head and stood, looking over his shoulder. A wall of light and people blocked his way home; he wouldn't be able to go back.

He ran to the water and grabbed a boat that lay on the beach "in case of emergencies." There were never emergencies.

Until now. The boat glided into the water, and he leapt in and untied the rope. Sailing away, he listened to the shouts and excited mutterings. The torchlight illuminated him, as well as the people who carried them. His friends, his family. People he'd hated and loved and trusted, but never feared. They were people he'd never see again, if the goddesses were kind.

Dimitri looked back out at the ocean, to the island that he couldn't see. It was out there. His sanctuary.

_Go_, the Dark Triforce ordered. And for once, Dimitri was happy to obey.


	3. Hyrule

**CHAPTER 2**

"Where are you going, Miss?"

Zelda froze. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and smiled at the guard who had called her name. "Yes?"

He eyed her warily. "Where are you going, Miss?" he repeated, enunciating every word as though she was stupid. Which wouldn't have surprised her; if the Queen hadn't put out a bulletin that she was mentally unstable, Zelda would eat her apron.

"I'm . . . going for a walk?"

He leaned against the wall. "The courtyards are lovely this time of day," he said.

"Yes, I know. I've seen them six times in the past three days. I was thinking of exploring the town. It's a cute town down there, isn't it?"

"Well, I'm sorry, Miss, but you can't leave. I have orders that you are not to leave the castle under any circumstances."

Zelda had known that there was _something_ strange going on around the castle, which was why she had wanted to sneak out rather than catch everyone's attention. But she couldn't understand why anyone would want to keep her in the castle, especially considering how much the Queen hated her. She would have assumed that the Queen would have booted her out by now, if Daphnes hadn't wanted her here.

Apparently that wasn't the case. "Why not?" she asked.

The guard shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I have no idea. I think it's something about you being a suspected criminal, and they don't want you running away with anything valuable until they have contacted the proper authorities and made sure you aren't sneaking information to the Gerudo."

She stared at him for a long time. "You're not serious, are you?"

The guard shrugged again. "That's just hearsay, Miss. I just know what I'm supposed to do."

"Surely you know that that's ridiculous, don't you?" Zelda said. "I mean, I don't _look_ like a killer to you, do I?" When the guard didn't reply, she sighed and shook her head. "Fine, fine. I don't want to get you into trouble." She turned and walked away, trying her hardest to look sweet and innocent.

After all, she'd heard that the door from the kitchen wouldn't be guarded in about a half an hour, since the cooks were going to barter with some of the townspeople for good vegetables.

She could wait.

* * *

Sneaking out of the castle was easier than it should have been. Despite Daphnes' grim predictions of war with the neighbors, it seemed that everyone in Hyrule was pretty complacent. None of the guards were expecting any real trouble; many of them were playing cards and didn't look up as she tiptoed past.

"All right," she muttered to herself as she slipped out of town — which was a little too guard-clotted to be conducive to exploration — and into Hyrule Field. She knew that Daphnes had had the best intentions, but staying at the castle had been the worst move she had made thus far. Instead of being a tourist, looking for jobs and a home and enjoying the sights of a bustling mainland, she was sneaking around and considered Security Threat Number One. How paranoid could the King and Queen possibly be?

Zelda sighed and closed her eyes. "You are in a beautiful new world," she said, "one that you've never even dreamed of. This is your first glimpse of it in the day. Enjoy." She opened her eyes and turned in a slow circle. Grass up to her calves — in some places up to her knees — waving back and forth in shades of green and yellow. Emptiness, not unlike staring out at the ocean, as far as the eye could see. It was simple, lovely. There was a river to her left, the town to her right, and nothingness ahead of her.

Wait . . . not quite nothingness. In the distance, hazy with early-afternoon heat, was a building. It looked like a farm of some sort, but it would take hours to get there.

Well, Zelda had said she'd wanted to walk. What else would she do, anyway? She began the long trek to the island in the middle of a sea of grasses.

As she drew a little closer, she saw a horse leap over the fence that circled the farm. It kicked up a shower of dust as it landed, then galloped towards her. Now that it was closer, Zelda realized that a girl sat upon its back. She smiled as she reached Zelda, a good twenty minutes later.

"Hi! I'm Mary! Who are you?" She extended a callused hand.

"I . . . Zelda."

"Oh! This is Starfire." Mary gestured to the black horse. It had a small white diamond on its forehead.

Mary was nice. She was cute and bouncy, with long, red hair tossed over her shoulder. A spray of freckles covered her nose. She was rather "common," with practical, homespun clothes and filthy hands. Zelda liked her immediately; Mary was like anyone on Piquo, only friendly to her.

Of course, this meant that she had no idea how to talk to the girl. "She's . . . pretty. So I guess I should be going." She turned around and began to walk back the way she came, feeling her face heat up.

"It sure looked like you were headed to our ranch," Mary called. When Zelda turned around, she cocked her head to the side. "Were you?"

"Well, I was curious about it. But I don't want to invade —"

"Nonsense! We love visitors, and I can give you the grand tour! Come on, follow me." Mary turned the horse around and began walking back to the ranch. "So, I don't think I've seen you around."

"I'm new. I was actually looking for a place to work." She kept her gaze on the ground in front of her, looking out for surprise dips or bumps that could trip her.

"Well, I don't know if we can help you out there, but I'll ask Talon, of course! We sell milk and take care of animals. Like cows and horses and cuccos. Do you know anything about farm animals?"

"Not really. . . ."

"We'll see what we can do for you. We also train horses for racing. This horse here is the fastest in Hyrule."

Zelda looked up. "Really?"

"Yeah. She just gave birth. I think her baby'll be just as fast."

A horse would be nice, if those guards were serious about her being a security threat. Even more important, though, would be having a horse to get her across this huge field in less than a day. "Uh . . . how much is she worth?"

Mary thought. "Maybe a coupl'a hundred rupees or so. Why?"

Zelda dug through her pocket. "I have three hundred. Can I buy her?"

Her eyes widened, and she threw her arms around her horse's neck. "No, I love Starfire! There's no way I'd give her up!" The horse snorted and threw its head back.

Zelda averted her gaze, looking from her shoes, which needed severe cleaning, to the desert, which was about a hundred feet away. The silence lengthened. She glanced over her shoulder. _Uh-oh._

There were three guards following them. Each was on a brilliant white horse. They had kept a safe distance, making sure Zelda didn't realize they were there; now that they saw that she'd seen them, they were picking up the pace. And man, those horses were fast.

Zelda glanced back up at Mary, who was staring at the horizon. "Uh, Mary?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry." She grabbed Mary's foot — which was just below her breast — and pulled it out of the stirrup, leaping into the air and using the empty space as a foothold. She gave Mary the gentlest shove she could, causing the poor girl to topple to the ground before she could react. Mary just stared up at her, her eyes wide with shock. "Sorry," Zelda repeated. "I'll bring it back." She swung up onto the horse, losing one of her shoes but not caring.

"Damn Gerudo!" Mary shrieked.

From what Zelda had heard about Gerudo, this wasn't exactly the highest compliment. Still, she didn't need to be thrown into the castle's dungeon for failing to comply with the law. She dug her heels into Starfire's sides, urging her toward the desert.

Behind her, she could hear Mary talking to the guards. "She stole my horse!"

The men ignored her. "She's going to the Valley," one of the guards muttered. "Maybe she _is_ a spy for the Gerudo."

"S-spy?" Mary said. "You mean . . . I was right?"

Zelda ignored them, hurrying towards the fortress at the end of a desert-like valley. Everything she'd heard about them didn't sound promising, but it was better than the other option. Besides, who knew? Maybe if they knew that she was considered some sort of felon, they could bond over their shared enjoyment of breaking the law. She heard the hoofbeats of the guards' horses as they continued the chase, and knew that if she slowed down, she could be taken prisoner. It didn't seem like she had any other choice.

It was time to meet the Gerudo.

* * *

Lenea stared out of the fortress window, hardly believing her eyes. There was no one watching the fortress, stopping the blonde-haired young woman from breaking into their home.

"Aveni! Come here!" Lenea shouted. Aveni was the head Gerudo; if anyone knew what to do, it would be her. As she burst into the room, Lenea pointed out the window at the girl. They stared for a moment, and then Lenea asked, "What do we do?"

"We stop her," Aveni replied. "Get some of the others."

"Yes, Aveni." Lenea turned and hurried away, tying up her thick red hair as she ran.

She threw open the door to her sleeping chamber, and found her friends sitting there, doing nothing. Tika was sitting on a stool, staring intently at a bug. Rio was lying on Tika's bed, and, judging from her slumped position and deep breathing, she was asleep.

"Tika! Rio!" Neither responded. "Get _up!"_ She grabbed each by one of their ears and yanked them to their feet.

"Ow!" Rio complained, rubbing her red ear. "That really hurt. I mean, for all we know, you stretched our ears."

"You're a skilled death machine, Rio," Tika replied. "Shut up and deal. What's up, Lenea?"

"Someone's broken in," Lenea said.

"In? Where?" Rio muttered, still groggy.

"Into the fortress!" Lenea snarled. "On _your_ watch!"

Rio shook her head. "Isn't Marisa supposed to be on our watch? Why isn't she covering for us?"

"Marisa doesn't do anything that is not related to babies," Lenea snapped. "Not since she had Nabooru. You know that." She was gearing up a good lecture on the discipline of the Gerudo, and how it was all going downhill thanks to the laziness of Gerudo without a king, but Tika cut her off.

"But honestly, Nabooru's fifteen years old already! She's not a baby anymore."

"Try telling Marisa that," Rio said, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "Hey, is there still gonna _be_ a king? I mean, are we just stuck unless we find Ganondorf, or what? It's been fifteen years. I don't even think people are even still looking since Koume and Kotake took him."

"There's a _Hylian_ in our valley, you idiots." Lenea was ready to leave them and find someone else, but as the thought registered in both women's brains, they stood, scimitars at the ready and all semblance of humor gone from their faces.

"Where?" Rio asked, checking her pockets for all of her weapons — which, Lenea thought with a sigh, she ought to have had on her at all times.

She decided to leave the matter for another day, however. "Follow me."

* * *

Zelda left Starfire outside; she didn't think that it would be handy to bring indoors, and besides, she'd promised Mary that she would get her horse back. Slipping into the high-walled fortress, she looked around and was surprised at how deserted it was. Were they anticipating her arrival, and lying in wait? Or was this so-called "Gerudo Fortress" just a ghost town? She glanced at all the stone buildings, scanning the doorways first, then looking up at each window before moving on to the next building.

There! Staring down at her were two Gerudo. Their ears were round, not pointed like she was accustomed to. They were both women, with red hair and dark skin and foreboding eyes.

While she couldn't see either of them in extraordinary detail, she could tell that one was older than the other. Her hair was streaked with gray, and her face was well-lined. The other was barely out of her teens, and from what Zelda could see of her expression, she was far more troubled than her companion. The older one gestured at Zelda. She said something, and the other girl disappeared. After a few moments, the older woman left, too. Zelda could guess what they had been talking about, and judging from the huge swords both women had had slung over their backs, it was unlikely that she'd have an opportunity to talk with any of them.

She ducked into the nearest building, hoping that it would be as empty as the rest of the valley appeared to be. Luckily for her, the front room at least was vacant. She crept forward, wondering if it would be stupider to duck under the table or to check the rest of the possibly-inhabited rooms for a better hiding place. Her foot snagged on something under the carpet, and she fell forward onto her face, catching herself with her palms. Wincing, she sat back up and glanced at the rug. The bump was uneven, like whatever was under there was something with a specific shape that wasn't symmetrical. Holding her breath and praying she'd caught a lucky break, she pulled back the rug.

Thank the goddesses — like all the villains in her mother's poorly-written romance novels, the Gerudo were not very good at hiding their trapdoors. The handle was ornate and heavy, and the hinges squealed as she pulled the wooden door up. Still, she didn't have time to worry about how loud it was. Besides, she couldn't get the rug to cover the door already, so her time was better spent relying on speed rather than stealth.

Outside, she heard voices, then footsteps. She stared in horror at the half-open door, wishing she'd had the foresight to close it, and debating whether it wold be smart to go do so.

No point. They'd be more likely to notice the movement, anyway. Her only hope was to get a head start.

"Hey, Lenea! This door's open!" Zelda winced at the sound of the girl's voice. Lowering herself in, she looked back at the open door, watching the long shadows of three girls approach the door. She dropped to the stone floor, which was about ten feet below.

She had lost her other shoe at some point; if she had to guess, she'd say that it was probably still in Starfire's stirrup. The shock from the ground made her feet sting, and she gasped. Her knees buckled, and she went down hard, knocking her head on the wall. She struggled to her feet, eyes watering and lips pressed together.

She'd left the trapdoor open, since she couldn't close it from below without shutting her arm in in the hinge. So she could see the outlines of three heads as they looked down the hole at her. It wasn't bright enough for them to see her, but she knew that when they dropped into the tunnel, they would find her without a problem. If she didn't move soon, they'd find her as a nice, soft landing mat. She took off down the long hallway, barely looking around. She kept her eyes on the tunnel that snaked ahead of her into blackness. It didn't look very inviting, but had to be better than the warrior women that lay behind.

Three sharp thuds echoed down the hallway, followed by voices. They hadn't seen her yet, but they'd catch up with her. Zelda pressed herself against the wall, hoping they would just run past and not find her. It was a bit of a long shot, but after the day she'd had so far, she deserved a long shot. Besides, it was dark, and they'd been in the sunlight all day; she couldn't see them, so how likely was it that they could see her?

Luck was with her for a third time. They didn't notice a thing as they hurried past. Though their eyes were great in the daylight, they apparently weren't as good in the dark. Zelda thanked the goddesses for that.

A hand clamped over her mouth and dragged her back into a secret tunnel. She gasped and tasted dirt from the attacker's palms as her head was "accidentally" banged against a rock outcropping. The person's filthy hand was clamped too tight over her mouth — and too much of her nose — for her to draw breath. Her chest was beginning to feel tight as they continued, and white spots were expanding across her vision when the hand let go. Zelda tried to collapse forward, breathing in wheezy gasps, when she suddenly changed her mind.

Or, rather, her mind was changed for her as the person — who was still behind her, and whom, in her frantic need to breathe, Zelda had forgotten — wrapped one hard-muscled arm around her chest and pressed a knife against her throat. A girl's voice hissed in her ear: "Talk fast, Gerudo."

* * *

Later that night Dimitri collapsed onto the sand. He was ready to just sleep here for the next few hours. Or days. Or for the rest of his life. He wouldn't mind never waking up. Funny, how such a morbid thought would never have occurred to him the day previous, and if it _had _crossed his mind, he would have laughed. Not care about living or dying? In his mind, there had been no contest. Beautiful beaches and clear seas all day, man. Much better than the Great Horizon that hovered beyond the borders of life.

Now, however, he didn't care if the Great Horizon was nothing but a big black void. At least that would be relaxing. And it would be free of —

_Get up! __The tide's too high; y_ou'll die if you sleep here.

Ugh. The stupid voice.

_I don't care,_ he replied, too exhausted to say the words out loud.

_I do. Now get UP!_

Dimitri's head snapped up of its own accord. It was like someone had grabbed his hair and tugged upward with all their might, except without the sudden pain of torn follicles. His arms flexed, his legs shoved, and his body staggered into a lumbering shamble that almost resembled a walk. His body dragged him a few yards before collapsing. Dimitri was unconscious even before the Dark Triforce cut his strings and let him fall.

Hours later — though he would have been hard-pressed to believe it, considering how tired he felt — he was shaken awake. Green eyes peered down at him from a tan, impish face. Her hair was a carroty red that looked strange with her dark skin. She was shaking his shoulders and inspecting his face. "Whoa!" He sat up and scrambled away from her. She cried out and scurried over to a bush, diving into it and huddling behind its leaves. Only her eyes were visible as she looked back at him.

He couldn't help but feel bad, watching her watch him. She looked scared to death, and strangely animal-esque. She stared at him like she'd never seen a Hylian before. Which, if this island was as remote as the Dark Triforce had promised, she hadn't.

"Hey, it's all right," he murmured, holding up his hands with his palms facing her.

The eyes disappeared. There was a dry rustling, then silence. He waited. She didn't come back. With a shrug, he sat down and placed his chin in his hands, looking around at the island. It really _was_ beautiful. It had the simplicity of the painting he'd seen in his mind's eye, somehow, giving it an abstract — but not unreal — atmosphere that was impossible to put into words. It was like he was _part_ of the painting now, something pure and simple, drawn with three or four messy paint strokes. Nothing ugly inside. Everything about the island seemed pure, in fact. Gleaming white sand stretched to the sea, turning turquoise under the water. The ocean was the same blue-green it was at home, but somehow this seemed cleaner, probably because there were no dirty fish guts and waste mucking it up. A few miles inland, covering the center of the island, was a jungle of bushes and palm trees and tall grasses; he was only a foot or two away from the outer edge of it.

It was beautiful, and magical. Surely such a place couldn't exist . . . but then where was he, really?

Dimitri sat there for a long time, gazing out at the ocean. He could see little fish swimming just beneath the surface, and jagged rocks that dotted the water.

_"Hai!"_ The cry broke the thick silence.

Dimitri spun around and lifted up his hands, barely catching the rock that aimed at his head. Holding it, he glanced around and saw . . . nothing. Only trees and bushes. Then he saw a flash of movement. He ducked and rolled out of the way, barely missing the next rock. He scanned the trees and saw the girl he'd met earlier. She was crouched on a tree branch, surrounded by other women armed with rocks.

"_Tisshia ans de youiko! Youiko!"_ the redhead cried, standing and arching her back, her head thrown up at the sky like a cucco crowing.

"_Youiko!" _the other girls responded. They chanted it again and again. _"Youiko!" _They threw another barrage of rocks. _"Youiko!"_

Dimitri turned and sprinted toward the water and out of their range. Whatever _youiko _was, he was pretty sure that he was it.

_"Aagh!" _Before he could make it out of the range of some of the stronger throwers, he was hit by a rock and crashed to the sand. He rubbed his head and scrambled to his feet, scrabbling at the ground for some sort of purchase. But by then he was hit in the arm, shoulder, and head by more rocks. Something warm and wet trickled down his face, and if he'd felt any pain, he would have assumed that his head was bleeding. The other rocks had, as far as he could tell, only bruised him, but they hurt like hell. He cried out as a spear hit him in the leg — and with that one he _knew _that he was bleeding, as the warm, sticky red liquid was darkening his clothes and the sand around him with too much volume and speed to be denied. Another was aimed at his head. He ducked it, but was hit by the stones that decorated the shaft, resulting in more blood in his eyes.

Blackness crowded in the edges of his vision. In the center of the darkness, he saw the girls whooping.

Then everything went black.

* * *

She watched with satisfaction as the boy fell to the ground. The sound of her people's joy was gratification enough, but it was the knowledge that they could, if they had to, subdue the _youiko _with attacks that reassured and pleased her. She didn't want to be forced to that, however. It was just a little insurance.

One of her companions lifted another spear, but she placed her hand on the girl's. _"Dinia, Moko. Rinai quo," _she scolded in Acakian. "_No, Moko. We can't kill this one."_

"_But what if he's the Evil? The _youiko?" Moko glanced at the spear, and then at the young man lying in the blood-soaked sand.

"_He _is_ the _youiko_. Of that I have no doubt. But we can't kill him yet."_

"_Why not?" _Rikara asked, butting in on the conversation. All the girls were listening now. _"_I_ would, if I were you."_

"_Trust me, Rikara, Moko. All of you. Don't do anything until I give the word."_

"_Yes, Princess," _Moko replied_. "Of course we trust you."_

"_Good. Wait here." _With that, she swung down from her perch and sneaked across the beach to where the man lay. She avoided the danger spots: the patches of sunlight where the leaf cover was insufficient. Upon reaching him, she pulled out a small vine rope, threading it through his fingers and tying it around his wrist. She examined him, searching for the symbol of the _youiko._

"_Princess! Hurry! The light is coming!" _Moko cried out.

She twisted around, avoiding the patch of light that the sun made as it moved in the sky. She yelped as the light grazed her skin, leaving burning red welts up and down where it had touched. They began bleeding, and she moaned in pain. She sat down on the sand, breathing hard, and beckoned Moko to come to her. Moko hurried down and squatted next to her, taking her bleeding arm and rubbing a cream all over it. She tied leaves around the arm and pulled tight. The princess flinched but said nothing. Moko finished cleaning her injury and looked back up at her. "_You see?" _she said. _"The _youiko_ is more trouble than he is worth."_

"_No. I think that we need him. If we kill him, the danger will spread to another, and will control them, too. If we can work with this one, we can figure out a way to rid ourselves of this curse once and for all. Besides, the boy didn't harm me. The sun did."_

"_Well, you wouldn't have been in the sun if you hadn't gone to fetch him." _When the Princess said nothing, Moko took her by the free arm. "_Princess_ _Quahi, __I'm serious. You cannot do this. Maybe . . ." _She hesitated. _"Maybe Rikara and I ought to take care of the youiko."_

_"No. I believe that I can do this, and that I must.__ I know that he can save us, and that the girls will kill him any chance they get." _She knelt down, pulling the boy into the shade, and then looked up at Moko again. _"Little sister, I must take him somewhere safe, and care for his wounds. I promise that you will find us both alive and well in a few days." _Smiling reassuringly, she pointed to the other girls. _"Take care of them for me."_

Moko nodded, then walked back to the line of trees. Quahi tugged on the rope and pulled him, moving gently to keep him from losing too much blood or waking up from a jolting pain. "_Koi hino alleiy," _she whispered.

_Time to go._

* * *

"Talk," the girl commanded, and pressed the blade harder.

For a few moments, Zelda could only choke. When she could speak, she hissed, "I'm not a Gerudo. Let me go!"

"Of course you're a Gerudo — don't assume that I am stupid. What are you running from?"

"I'm not! I don't even _look_ like a Gerudo!"

"How can I tell? It's dark as Democres in here! Wait." She began to walk backward, forcing Zelda to match her steps to avoid the knife that was still at her throat. After about thirty feet or so, the woman let her arms fall, grabbing Zelda by the shoulders and spinning her around. She looked her up and down, the knife held ready at her side. "Well, fancy that. You don't," she said, letting the knife fall slightly; though she didn't relax her grip on it. "So . . . what are you doing here, then?"

Zelda stared at her. "You kidnapped me, nearly choked me to death, and accused me of being a Gerudo, and now you want me to sit here and _chat?"_

"The other Gerudo won't find us here," the woman said. In the dim light, all Zelda could see was that she had bright hair and red eyes. "This was a secret passage created by the Sheikah and hidden in darkness. The Gerudo are too used to bright light and brilliant glare; they have no talent at seeking things out of the shadows."

"The . . . Sheikah?"

"Yes, of course." When she saw Zelda's blank expression, she frowned. "The Sheikan people, the famous warriors? The only ones whom the Gerudo are afraid of? The _saviors_ of the Hylians?" Zelda simply shook her head, and the woman sighed. "Where have you been for the past fifty years?"

"For nineteen of them I was on an island called Piquo. I've been on the mainland for approximately seventy hours."

"Oh." The woman sheathed her blade. "Who _are_ you, then? And what are you doing here?"

Zelda took a deep breath. "My name is Zelda. And that's a kinda long story."

The woman smiled. "My name is Impa. And I would love to hear it."

* * *

Dimitri opened his eyes and looked up at the blue sky above him. The sun was at the exact same place it had been when he'd been knocked out, which meant that either he had been unconscious of a few seconds or a few days. He glanced to either side, wincing at the twinge his head gave him. It looked like he was somewhere in the thick of the jungle, as there were plants on every side of him. That gave some evidence to the "asleep for days" theory, as did the lack of screaming agony in his leg, which had resembled a shish-kebab the last time he'd seen it. Slowly and painfully he worked his way into a sitting position, taking the time to admire the brilliant yellow-and-purple bruises running up his arms and legs. He felt the tender spot on the top of his head. There was a bump, but no more bleeding. His leg wasn't bleeding anymore, either; in fact, it was bandaged up and felt almost good. It was sore when he touched it, but otherwise it was on the mend.

_Get up! _The Dark Triforce snarled. _Get up and get out of here!_

_What? _Dimitri was still too tired to talk aloud, but found that thinking his replies worked just fine. _What are you talking about? I thought you wanted —_

_Before she comes back! Grab something to kill her with and hide! You —_

There was a rustling to his left, and the young woman with the red hair stuck her head out of the bushes. _"Ve ger difo' nopp ette cartel?" _she asked, cocking her head to the side.

Dimitri stared about her, forgetting all about the Dark Triforce. "I'm sorry?"

"_Adifissmio."_

"I . . . don't know what you're saying."

She looked at the ground, put out. Then she looked up. _"Winyner-ci?" _she asked, miming drinking.

"Yes," he replied, relieved that they could talk, more or less.

She knelt down by a stream flowing by and pulled out a pouch made of animal skins. They looked like the clothes she had on. Out of that she pulled a bowl, made out of some sort of bone; Dimitri decided he didn't want to know. She filled it and handed the bowl to him. As he drank, she watched him.

"What's your name?" he asked. She stared at him blankly. He pointed to himself. "Demi."

She nodded and smiled. _"Quahi." _Demi relaxed and held out his hand.

"It's a pleasure to —"

Suddenly Quahi grabbed his hand. She turned it palm-down, so that the glittering black Triforce was visible. _"Youiko," _she whispered, and the Dark Triforce hissed.

Dimitri cringed, hoping she wasn't going to throw any more rocks at him. "What is a _youiko_?"

She pointed to his hand, then to hers, which had a golden triangle etched into it. Quahi said the only Hyrulian word she knew, and it scared him more than anything else she could have said.

"Evil."

* * *

A/N: All right, so parts of this are a little bit cheesy. Someday I may be able to make those parts more palatable. However, overall I believe that this is a vast improvement from the previous version of this story (though it is much longer). I hope you've enjoyed it.


	4. Hyrule Part II

". . . And somewhere about the time I was avoiding the sword-happy harpies back there, I ran into you," Zelda finished.

"But what made you decide to leave? I mean, what's wrong with Piquo?"

Zelda's eyes narrowed. "It was boring," she said, and Impa looked away. They continued on in silence for a while. Then Zelda said, "You still haven't told me why you're here. Or where we're going."

"I'm a Sheikah," Impa began. "Our job is to protect the Hylians at all costs. We're very loyal, and skilled in the arts of disguise and deceit."

"So you're liars and thieves."

"No, not either. We don't lie, unless it suits the well-being of our race, or the race of the Hylians. And we don't _steal_, per se. We merely borrow and return later. We _always_ return everything we borrow, though . . . subtly."

"What does that mean?"

"We give the stolen objects back. But what we do is place it somewhere hard to find. Then when they do discover it, they'll believe that they misplaced it." Impa smirked, like she was proud of this clever bit of trickery.

"What if they don't find it?"

Her smile faded, and she looked uncomfortable. "They do. Usually. Anyway, all Sheikah have red eyes."

"Like all Gerudo have red hair?" Zelda couldn't imagine how such a thing could work. Did no one ever cross-breed with other races? Was interracial dating really such a serious offense in Hyrule? Back home, men were always marrying women from other tribes without a second thought, to the point where there was no such thing as a "pure" Hylian; they were all mutts somewhere down the line.

"Yeah."

"Do all Sheikah have silver hair?" Impa shook her head. "Has it _always_ been silver?" How did one get _born_ with silver hair?

"Yep. Ever since I had hair." She glared at Zelda. "May I continue?"

"Who's stopping you?"

"You are. We are trained fighters, and have the greatest range of weapon usage in Hyrule. We are also talented at escaping, and, if we want, can neither be seen nor heard."

Zelda sighed. This little Sheikah lesson was going on far too long for her liking. "So you're spies."

"We prefer a different word, but I guess that works too."

"That doesn't explain why you're here."

Impa looked surprised. "Sure it does."

"No, all you've done is brag about being a Sheikah." It was such a relief to finally say, and Zelda couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction as Impa looked put out.

"I haven't. I was just stating what is common knowledge to normal Hylians. Speaking of which, we had our own secret language, but the Hylian King ordered us to stop using it because no one could understand it, and he was afraid we'd plot against him. Only a few know it fully, myself included."

"Impa? I don't mean to be rude, but I don't care. Nothing you've said has explained what you're doing here."

"I . . . don't really have a reason, besides curiosity." She bit her lip and looked away. "You see . . . I'm not really supposed to be here. This kind of reconnaissance mission is only to be done with the approval of the Sheikan leaders, and with good reason. It's not supposed to be open to the public."

"So won't they kill you, knowing you came here?"

"Nope." They reached a door, and Impa pulled it open a crack, letting a strip of light shine through.

"Why not?"

"They don't know I'm here. Anyway, they don't kill people who break the rules. I'd just be exiled." She yanked the door open and they climbed out of the tunnel into the brilliant daylight.

"Where are we?" Zelda asked, squinting and shielding her eyes.

"In Hyrule Field. Near Zora's River."

"What's a Zor —"

A surge of water crashed over her from the left, knocking her off balance and sending her tumbling into the water as another water bomb barely missed Impa. A smooth, wet hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her deeper into the water. Zelda had no idea what it was, but she kicked wildly, slamming her foot into something hard and smooth. Instantly the hand let go. She swam up to the surface, gasping for breath and scanning the water for more of the creatures, whatever they were.

Impa ran over to the water's edge. "Farore! What _happened_? I mean, one second you're there and then —"

A blue blur shot out of the water and splashed back down, barely leaving a ripple. Zelda watched the shadowy figure swim closer to her. She paddled backward, and smacked into another fish monster. _"Impa!"_

Impa reached into her pocket, producing a long chain. Swinging it over her head, she sent one end of it to Zelda, who grabbed it, wrapped it around her waist, and began to swim over to the shore as fast as she could. But one of the fish people seized the chain that was dangling in the water between Impa and Zelda. With a sharp tug, it sent Impa toppling into the river. The fish holding Zelda towed her back through the water to a little side stream. Without warning, she was dragged underwater again, and she could feel them moving, and see the sun above her head, but she didn't care. All she cared about was that she was under the water. With no oxygen. She twisted and kicked, trying to get out of the death-grip, but the arms grasping her were too strong.

The sky above her grew clearer and clearer, and Zelda realized that they were heading towards the surface. She blew out the remaining air in her lungs as they burst out of the water onto dry land. One of the fish-creatures threw Zelda onto the grass, leaving her to sputter and gasp for air for the second time in less than three hours. Someone held her by the shoulders, holding her steady as she sat up, and Zelda heard Impa's voice ask hoarsely, "Are you all right?"

Zelda tried to say yes but could only cough. She nodded instead. Finally, she stood and turned to face their captors. "Whoa." Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the ground again.

If she had thought the Gerudo were strange-looking, the creatures were flat-out _alarming. _They were bright blue, both male, and one was covered with green tattoos. The other was thinner, sleeker, and seemingly shyer. He was staring straight at Zelda, his brow furrowed in confusion. The first fish, the marked one, was more muscular, and both had with what looked like tails growing out of their heads and fins attached to their arms and hips. Zelda, who had only seen Hylians her entire life, didn't know what to think about such creatures. There certainly wasn't anything this alien on their small islands, aside from the fish they caught, sold, and ate almost every day; she didn't enjoy the thought of them having sentient cousins, that was for sure. The fact that they were naked didn't even seem to matter much compared to their appearance.

She assumed she was getting her first glimpse of a Zora.

The larger one glared at them both, leveling a crossbow at them. The smaller one stepped forward, holding his head high and looking down at them. As he walked, Zelda noticed that they both had webbed feet. "I am Prince Zora," he said. "Will you two come with us, please?"

"Do we have a choice?" Impa asked.

The larger one tightened his grip on the crossbow, and Prince Zora shook his head. "It's just to talk," he said. "I believe that you can be of assistance to us. I promise, neither of you will be harmed."

"Tell that to the guy with the crossbow," Impa muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. Prince Zora placed his hand on the other's arm, forcing him to relax.

"Peace, Hiako," he murmured. To the girls he said, "Please, be reasonable. We only wish to talk."

"Why couldn't you have talked to us on land? You know, without the drowning?"

"Impa, _shh,"_ Zelda hissed, cowed not only by the presence of the creatures but by having to deal, once again, with royalty.

Prince Zora chose to ignore her rudeness. "Everything will be explained later," he said, his manner smooth and comforting. "Everything is all right. But I must ask you to be respectful, as we are not your enemies, but hopefully your friends. We would like to take you to the Zora's Domain."

_Flowery speech and unflappable confidence, _Zelda thought. _Daphnes should be taking Prince Lessons from this guy._

He led them through a maze of marshy ground that was broken up into little pools of fresh water. Every once in a while one of the Zoras would scoop up a handful to splash upon themselves. For the most part, though, they were silent as they marched. "What do you think we're doing here?" Zelda whispered to Impa.

"I don't know," she whispered back. "Now shut up, I want to observe these guys. I've seen Zora before, but only at a distance, and never as a potential threat."

Zelda turned her attention to Prince Zora. "Why is your name Zora?" she asked, deciding to leave Impa to the battle strategy and focus on keeping on their captors' good sides.

He looked puzzled. "It's tradition," he explained. "All Zora royalty is named Zora. My father's King Zora, too, and my grandfather before him."

"But I don't get why everyone _wants_ that. No offense, but it sounds kind of . . . stupid."

"Really? It's not that different from the Hylians, you know. Everyone in the Royal Family's third name is Hyrule. Doesn't that seem odd to you?" Zelda didn't respond; thinking it over, she realized that he was right. Prince Zora smiled at her expression and nodded. "You see, then. Anyway, here we go." Prince Zora held out his hand when they reached a bridge of land in front of a large waterfall. He took out a long flute and played a few notes. The sheet of water thinned (though it still looked pretty violent), and through the falling drops they could see a ledge and a door. He put the flute away and turned to Zelda. "Follow me," he said, and jumped onto the ledge, slipping through the door on the other side.

Glancing at the waterfall, then at Impa, she took a deep breath and leapt across the gap between the bridge they were on and the waterfall. Her heel hit the ridge and slipped. She grabbed a tiny crag in the rock and steadied herself, following Prince Zora inside. Impa followed a moment later, brushing slimy moss off her hands. "It's not a huge gap, but the water really throws you off, doesn't it?" she said. Zelda didn't reply; she was staring in awe at the Zora's Domain.

It was huge. Bigger than the castle, which seemed almost impossible to Zelda, and almost all of it was water. Sure, there were ledges around the side made out of some sort of dirt or rock or something, but for the most part, everywhere one stepped was clear, blue water, cleaner than she'd ever seen. "How do you keep it so nice?" she asked.

Impa rolled her eyes, like this was just the sort of simple, unnecessary question she'd expect from a Hylian, but Prince Zora smiled. "The fish clean it," he said. "They eat any impurities in the water."

"That's very —"

"Hiiii-_yah_!" A Zora dropped down in front of them. Luckily for Zelda, who was getting a little weary of all the exposed fish-flesh, he was wearing a long cloak that covered everything but his head. He had the standard tail growing out of the back of his head, but it was a bright yellow that didn't seem natural. He kept stroking it and grinning, which made her wonder if it was some sort of symbol of honor. He had the most animated grin, charming and natural. "Hiya, Zora!"

Prince Zora sighed. "Misses, this unfortunate cretin is known as Trent. As you can see by the regrettable color of his tail, he has done something stupid again."

Trent looked wounded. "But Zora, I did something to your old dad! I'd have thought you'd be thanking me!"

The Prince's eyes widened. "What in Hyrule did you do?"

"I . . . might've dyed his bath water yellow." He beamed again; the smile was beginning to wear down the Prince's defenses, Zelda could tell. "For fun. The King has a sense of humor, right?"

Prince Zora looked scandalized. _"Trent!_ He will skin you alive for that! He'll —"

"What, me? But I'm your most trusted friend, and the son of the King's most trusted advisor. You can get me off, right?" He flashed the grin one more time. "Please?"

Zelda couldn't help but smirk. It seemed like a thing Demi would do . . .

No. She shook her head. She wouldn't go there. There was a time and a place for moping, and to her mind, that time and place was as far away from her as possible.

Prince Zora took a deep breath and rubbed the sides of his head where tail met temple. "Just . . . tell me what happened, and let me get on with my business." Trent looked at the girls for a moment, then shrugged one shoulder, leaning against the wall as if he owned the world.

"Well, the old coot came in, and he was _mad. _Ya see, he didn't notice the water was yellow, he was too busy interrogating me like a lowly criminal. You'd think he didn't trust me! He said that if I ever came in there again, he'd take me out to Lord Jabu-Jabu and feed me to him! As if Jabu-Jabu would ever eat someone! But when I told him that —"

"No," Prince Zora moaned, shaking his head. "You told him he was wrong? You _idiot!"_

"He glared at me _so_ angrily and snarled, 'I'll think of something,' and kicked me out! I got a royal guard escort and everything." He slung an arm around Prince Zora, and Zelda was taken aback by the difference between the way he treated the Prince to the way the Hylians treated Daphnes. "Hey, when you get me off with your dad, can you mention that those guards need to be taught how to be more gentle? They bruised my tail!"

The Prince stared at him. "Do you ever _think_ about the consequences of your actions, Trent?" he asked. "Don't you ever wonder what would happen if my influence were not enough, and you were exiled?"

"Me? Nah. It's impossible to be mad at me." He winked, and turned his attention to Impa and Zelda. "So . . . hey! There's Hylians in here!"

"I'm a _Sheikah_." Zelda nudged Impa and shook her head.

Prince Zora heard her, though Trent was oblivious, and worked to hide his smirk as he said, "Yes, that was the business I was talking about before that asinine story. The King wants them, and I was lucky enough to go fetch them."

Trent pouted. "Why wasn't I invited?"

"Because you're an idiot."

"Can we do something reckless after dinner? You owe me for not letting me come with you."

Prince Zora sighed. "If you aren't executed, then we can explore Hyrule. Is that all right?"

"Excellent! See ya 'round, Zora. Nice to meet you, Hylians." He leapt over a sign, diving into the water. Impa glared at his back, but he was out of earshot, and she didn't want to shout her race across the Domain. She didn't like that everyone was looking at her, or how bright it was in there. "There's not a decent shadow in this place," she hissed to Zelda. "Not a single way to sneak out of here!"

"You need to see the sun more, anyway. And who says we need to hide?"

"It's nice to have an escape ready, Zelda. You'd never survive in a high-pressure situation, you know."

"That's why I don't intend to get into any." They continued up the stairs until they reached the throne room. Prince Zora reached up and rapped on the door.

"Go away."

"Father? It's your son, with Hylians."

"How do you . . . ? Oh, fine. Let them in." The doors swung open, and the three arrivals tried not to stare at the King, who was seated in his throne wearing a red robe. It was one of those that was supposed to cover everything from the head to the toe, but this one must have been purchased when the King was a younger fish, because it left his stomach, chest, and neck exposed and very yellow. He acted like his un-dyed head wasn't a separate color from the rest of his body, and stared the Prince down. "Are these two royal advisors to the Hylian King?"

Prince Zora glanced at Zelda and Impa, who shook their heads. "I'm afraid not, Father."

"Are they wives of wealthy noblemen?"

Another glance, another head shake. "No."

"Are they _anyone_ of importance?"

"I . . ." He gave them one last desperate look, and then turned back to the King. "Well . . ."

The King pounded his fist on the arm of his throne. "What on earth do you expect me to do with two commoners? Didn't you assume when you saw that they were female that they would be of no use to me?"

Impa opened her mouth to argue, and Zelda was inclined to let her. However, Prince Zora brushed his hand against hers, and shot her a stern look. "Father, few Hylians come near the water due to the growing tensions between all the peoples of Hyrule, and these two were the only ones seen all day —"

"That doesn't matter to me! Are you not patient enough to wait for someone worthy?"

"Someone worthy could never have appeared! How long were we supposed to —"

"You wanted to be more involved in royal affairs, and now you're complaining about the jobs I've given you?"

"No, I just —"

"Sir," Impa said, stepping forward and squeezing between the Prince and his father, "I happen to be a Sheikah. My mother is one of the royal guards of the Hylian King himself. I may be of some assistance, as I told your son earlier." Prince Zora stared at her in shock, and Zelda bumped against him as she stepped forward, turning to make sure that the son knew well enough to keep his mouth shut.

"I am personal friends with the Hylian Prince," she said. "I'm sure that, if you wanted, I could speak to him about whatever the problem is. As the Prince and I discussed, the Zora are a top priority to the Hylian royalty." Of course, she didn't mention that her sway would be minimal, considering that she was wanted for robbery, escape, and suspected espionage, nor would she consider what might happen if King Zora attempted to tell the King of Hyrule that they were a top priority. She'd worry about that later.

King Zora leaned around the two girls, glaring at his son. "Why didn't you mention this earlier?"

"I . . . I was interrupted."

"You'll need to overcome such things when you are king. You need a strong voice and a quick tongue to make informed decisions. You are far too meek."

"Yes, Father."

The King turned to Zelda and Impa. "Now, I need you two, as women of influence and power in the Hylian courts" — The two shared uneasy glances, but said nothing — "to give the Hylian King an important message from myself and my people. The message is as follows: The Zora are experiencing a disquieting lack of fish in the rivers and lakes of Hyrule. It would be greatly appreciated if the Hylian King would look into this, and see if any Hylian action has resulted in the loss of fish. Can you deliver this message?"

"We can," Impa said, keeping her face politely blank, "but is it really a matter for Hylian royalty?"

"Hylians eat fish, don't they? This is important for you as well, and if the Hylians want to maintain a friendly relationship with the Zoras, we must all work together on issues that affect one another. I would have sent my people to speak with the King, but there has been a tightening of security at Hyrule Castle, making an audience with him near impossible, even for such trusted allies as the Zora." He leaned back. "You are dismissed. If there is anyone outside, make sure they enter posthaste."

In fact, as they were leaving, three men with vats of blue dye were ushered in, and the doors were swept closed behind them with impressive speed and force. Prince Zora sighed. "That fool's done it this time."

"Oh, that's right," Zelda said. "Will you be able to talk to your father later and help Trent?"

The Prince shrugged. "Trent won't get in trouble. His father dotes on him, and the King dotes on his father. Really, I'm in more danger of exile than Trent is, since I don't act 'princely' enough."

Steering them away from a potentially depressing subject — the Prince was looking a little down at the thought of his failure — Zelda asked, "Why aren't the Zoras doing anything to solve this fish problem, if it's as bad as you all say?"

Prince Zora looked offended. "We are. It's just that it's a bit of a mystery, and most of our scientists don't have enough to go on — there's no reason that the fish should naturally be disappearing, and no one can think of any other causes aside from some sort of predator or taint in the water. They're quite flummoxed."

"But . . . there's no one here. Where are all the other Zoras?" It was true; while there were maybe a hundred Zoras doing various things in the Domain, it seemed like far too few to make up an entire race.

"Ah, well that's another issue between the Zora and the Hylians." Prince Zora leaned closer. "They're searching for the Triforce," he said in a low voice.

Impa snorted. "Who isn't?" she asked. "I think that pretty much everyone is looking for the thing. Scores of Sheikan and Hylian warriors are on quests for it."

"Why not? It's supposed to give people the power to save Hyrule and grant them any wish. Sounds pretty cool to me," Trent said from behind them.

"Welcome back," Zelda said.

"Hey. So I hear that Hiako is planning on searching for the thing, too."

"He can't!" Prince Zora exclaimed. "We need him here! The Gerudo are stealing from us, and no one else has better aim than Hiako!"

"The Gerudo? Seriously, Zora, the Gerudo aren't coming anywhere near us."

"There's a lot you don't know, Trent. It's supposed to be kept a secret, but we found a Zora dead in one of the underground chambers, and when we looked around, there was a hole in the wall, just large enough for a man to get through. And we found evidence of Gerudo camping out there; there was a strip of pink clothing that had gotten caught on a crag in the rock."

"Well, then, why aren't there people patrolling there now?"

"The King doesn't want to cause panic. But the Gerudo are getting desperate."

"Desperate? Why?" Impa, Trent, and Prince Zora looked puzzled that she had to ask. "I'm not from around here," she reminded them.

Prince Zora nodded. "The Gerudo were originally a large nomad family from Ryia that took over Hyrule Market when they were banished from Ryia for thievery. They were again exiled to the desert years ago for plotting assassination of the Hylian King, and it's a desolate wasteland over there. They have no water, and barely any food, but the King of Hylians doesn't seem to grasp that at all. They were thieves and magicians in Ryia, and with their difficult situation, they've honed those skills to a fine art." He looked uncomfortable. "At least, that's what the rumors say. The desert is far too dry for most Zora to speak with any Gerudo firsthand, and if stories are true, few Gerudo can swim. Anyway, I am sure that they've been stealing the fish." He shrugged. "It would make sense to take advantage of the tensions between the races and pit them against one another, not to mention feeding themselves. I wouldn't be surprised if they want to start a war to get control of better land. Maybe even all of Hyrule."

Impa and Trent looked bored by this story, and Zelda assumed that it was just something everyone knew. She, on the other hand, was fascinated, and couldn't help but feel sorry for the Gerudo. "So then tell the King," she said. "You must be able to straighten something out."

"No. He refuses to admit that there are even Gerudo in our Domain, let alone that they are our main problem. I've shown him the scrap of cloth dozens of times, but he insists that there is no definitive way to find out who or what it belonged to. The way he talks, it must have come from one of the Zoras, like it was a ribbon used to tie up someone's hair!" He threw his arms up into the air, then let them drop to his sides again, looking exhausted. "I have no idea what to do." In that moment of uncertainty, the Prince reminded her of Daphnes when he'd told her that he wished he could be more confident, and Zelda realized that all the people who were going to inherit Hyrule were in for a hell of a time when it came to putting out fires. Their fathers didn't exactly seem willing to give much instruction on problem-solving, either.

"We'll help you," Zelda declared, standing up a little straighter to give her claim more credibility.

Impa shot her a confused glance. "We will?"

"Thank you!" Prince Zora rushed forward, shaking her hand. "We appreciate this so much!" He fumbled around for a moment before pulling a letter out of some unspecified location. Zelda decided to leave this aspect of Zora culture unexplored, and said nothing. "This is for the King of the Hylians. It will explain our situation in full, including suspicions of Gerudo involvement."

"Is it from the King?" Impa asked, reaching forward to take it.

The Prince shuffled. "Well . . . not exactly. It, ah, is a bit more elegant than my father could have penned, and a bit more humble." He grasped both their hands again before escorting them out of the Domain. "Thank you so much for your assistance. . . . You really _do _have sway in the Hylian court, right?"

Later, as they were following the river up to the Castle, Impa said, "I hope you're happy, Zel."

Zelda smiled. "You know what, Impa? I really am." She pocketed the letter that Prince Zora had given her. "Come on. Let's go meet a king."


	5. Good and Evil

**CHAPTER 3**

"What?" Dimitri asked, staring at the little black mark. "This thing can't be evil. It's _inanimate; _it doesn't emote." Though he couldn't help but shiver, wondering whether that was actually true. There was something about the mark — the way it had started to grow warmer, the way the skin around it was swollen and red, and most of all the way it throbbed whenever the Dark Triforce spoke — that seemed ominous, even sinister. And he knew that he was lying about inanimate objects being emotionless; if that were true, the relic he'd found on the beach would be nothing more than a paperweight; in fact, it might not even have been there in the first place.

Besides, there was that _voice_.

Quahi didn't look convinced, either. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. _"Guai nosio kans dange-mo," _she whispered. Dimitri stared at her and shook his head. She dug her fingernails into his skin and he flinched. _"Guai nosio kans dange-mo."_

"I —"

_"Guai nosio. Nosia." _Without letting go of his hand, she brushed the skin near the mark with her pinky. She could have reached to touch the triangle itself, but she didn't. _"Kans," _she said, and shook her head vigorously from side to side. _"Kans. Dange-mo." _She gave him a huge, false smile, cocking her head to the side. _"Dange-mo" _— and she smiled — _"Kans." _She shook her head.

"So it's not —"

Quahi's pinky slipped, and her finger brushed against the black mark. His hand suddenly felt like a hot coal had been dropped upon it, and he cried out. The gold triangle on Quahi's hand flared with light, and her pinky blackened, like she'd crushed it in a door or under a rock. She screamed and began shaking, and Dimitri was afraid that she was having some sort of fit, like the ones Zelda's brother, Naran, was reputed to have. He'd never seen one, but one of his classmates had, and she said that he shook and moaned before collapsing; she even said that foamy drool came out of his mouth. Quahi didn't look like she was foaming, but Dimitri was terrified, and if it didn't feel like a small fire had lighted on the back of his hand, he would have been better able to remember what the teacher had done for Naran.

Just like Zelda's brilliant little brother, Quahi let out one pained moan and fell to the ground. Dimitri knelt next to her, trying to remember whether she was in danger of biting her tongue off or not. Though, since it seemed like the worst of it had passed — not only had she stopped trembling, but the burning in Dimitri's hand was beginning to fade as well — he thought it might be best not to touch her. Maybe she just needed sleep. Speaking of which. . . . He stood, prepared to crawl over to the bushes to go to the bathroom before curling up to sleep himself; after an event like that, he could use some time to recuperate.

_Kill her._

He jumped, and then snaked one leg around the other to keep from embarrassing himself. "Why?" he said, looking around for any of Quahi's friends. Or, more importantly, for any of her friends' spears.

_She has the Triforce of Wisdom. She doesn't know it yet, but she is very dangerous to us. Kill her._

Dimitri didn't respond. "She said . . . _Guai nosio . . . kans . . . dange-mo. _'This thing is not . . . happy? Good?'" He tried to give the Dark Triforce a defiant glare, but as it was an internal entity, the result was not impressive. "In any case, she's convinced that you're evil and bad and that you should die. From what I've seen, and from . . . from what I've done . . ." He winced at the thought of Emilia's body, wriggling and kicking up salt into his eyes as the water from the waves covered her face like a deadly caul. "I think she's right. So no, I don't think I'll be killing her, and I don't think I'll be listening to you anymore. You can try your best to control me, but I'm stronger than you. _You _need _me _just to survive. So fucking deal with it."

He turned and walked to the edge of the clearing, debating whether or not he should go off into the woods. Quahi would probably be safer, but would he? He sat down and leaned his back against one of the spindly trees. He closed his eyes, wishing that everything could go back to normal, and that he didn't have to sit here and listen to this —

_The girl has the Triforce mark, which means that the Triforce is broken. But it can't be so. If one of the three Triforce carriers is killed, then the Triforce will be returned to its original state, and Hyrule will be returned to normal. You _must_ kill her._

"What?" He opened his eyes and sat up. "What are you talking about? What's abnormal?"

The Dark Triforce sighed, a thing that shouldn't have had any tangibility but did; he felt the grass on either side of him ripple with the sound. _The goddesses left behind the Triforce, correct?_

"Of course. Everyone knows that."

_When they left, they also left behind the Dark Triforce, which was forged by the goddesses' darker younger brother, Aradvkn of Democres. And I cannot be broken. The Triforce, on the other hand, will break into three if touched by a wicked one, resulting in three of the most powerful people in the world. The best thing would be to get the three carriers together and sacrifice them to a worthy one with the mark of Aradvkn — that would be you, "Demi." Then the two Triforces can become one, and the owner will be granted a wish. Of course, the wish will have the opposite effect the wisher had intended, due to the backwards nature of myself, and Hyrule will be thrown into chaos. The good people, the "light" people of the world will perish._

Dimitri sat, staring at Quahi and trying to imagine her as one of the most powerful people in Hyrule. "How," he said, "would that be a good thing?"

_Hyrule will fall, and a new land will rise up out of the ruin. The worthy one shall rule, waited on by legions of the loyal, wicked ones. That could be me. And you. As for the deaths of the people: the self-proclaimed "light people" are nothing but liars and betrayers. They say one thing, and do another, blaming it all on "the circumstances." It's a ruse to let them believe that they are in the right. That _they_ are the kind ones._

_But us . . . we are a different story altogether. Loyal. True. We will put our lives on the line. _We_ are the heroes._

Dimitri didn't appreciate being lumped in with the bad guys, but was too fascinated to interrupt.

_Another choice is to kill just one of the carriers. That way, the Triforce will return to its original state, and we can begin fresh, allowing our strength to build and our resources to expand, so that when the Triforce is broken again by one of our followers, we will be able to find the carriers and perform the ritual. Don't you understand the wonders you could achieve?_

"Wonders?" Dimitri said, staring at Quahi and imagining her — or some other, maybe younger, girl, who had no idea what was going on or what she'd done to deserve it — lying across an altar, her throat slit and blood dripping down her limp fingers. He saw bodies in the corner, each one with the dimming gold triangle on their left hands. He imagined his grandfather, Naran . . . Zelda. All would die, and people like himself would rule? He wasn't that evil yet. "I'm sorry, the wonders seem to have escaped me. I think that I'll pass on the murder."

_You will change your mind. All you need is time._

* * *

Zelda glanced at Impa, reverting to that age-old habit of the awkward or nervous: twiddling her thumbs. She felt weird just marching back up to the castle, and weirder about stopping at the Sheikah Caverns. But she expected Impa knew what she was doing.

Impa strode to the door of a low wooden house at the mouth of a cave, grabbed the knocker, and rapped it hard against the wood. A small Sheikah girl opened the door. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and her eyes were warm and friendly; Zelda pegged her around fifteen years old.

"Hel—" She trailed off mid-word. "Impa?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk to your brother," Impa said.

"Well, all right, but you know, he's getting restless, what with him not being able to come with you on your —" She shut up fast when she saw Impa's expression. "Anyway, he's been in his room, and since he's been in there way too long to have been . . ." she giggled, "you know, I think it means that he's plotting some stupid scheme, and he'll want you along. As usual. You're _sure_ you want to talk with him? He's ticked because he had to cover for you when you went out. I don't know if I'd trust his moods." She ushered them in, turning to Zelda. "Hi, I'm Tia." She held out her hand and smiled.

She took it after a moment, awed at the girl's ability to talk on and on without pause for breath. "Zelda."

Tia wore a long, navy-blue shirt that touched her knees. On the chest was a red eye; from what Zelda had gathered from Impa during her marathon lecture, the eye was the Sheikan symbol. Impa narrowed her eyes. "Tia, where did you get that shirt? You can't fight in that. And for Din's sake, pull it up."

Tia blushed and tugged on the neck of her shirt, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's Sheik's," she mumbled, her eyes on the floor.

"And where is yours?"

Tia looked up, any shame gone from her eyes. "It's Sheik's fault! He pushed me down and I fell into the horse stalls! The ones that old Sakka didn't clean! And so I tackled him and made him give me his. It was only fair."

Impa rolled her eyes. "You should be prepared for such things. Especially with your stupid broth —"

"Hey." The door opened wider behind Tia, and a young man — younger than Zelda, but probably older than Impa — poked his head in. His shaggy blond hair stuck up in the back. He kept rubbing his red eyes like he'd just woken up, and he had a tattoo on his shoulder of the Sheikan symbol. "Impa," he said. "Thought you weren't ever coming back. Gotta say, I was sick of covering for you."

"Sorry."

Sheik waved it away, turning back to Tia. "Hey, can I have my shirt back?"

Tia shook her head. Sheik groaned. "Come on, Tee, I can't go around without a shirt forever. What about when winter comes?"

"Did you clean mine? And don't be such a prima donna. Winter's not for another six months."

"Sheik, you have other shirts," Impa pointed out. "Come to think of it, so do you, Tia." Sheik waved this comment away as he had her other and glared at Tia, who shrugged. Finally he turned to Impa and Zelda, gesturing for them to follow him as he made his way deeper into the house (and, as the wooden walls gave way to damp rock, into the cave). The walls were eerily blank, and the light was sparse. Zelda felt more and more like she was descending into the lair of a villain's hideout, like the ones in silly fantasy books. Impa and Sheik, however, seemed to relax more and more as they sunk into the darkness. There was something creepy about a race that thrived in shadows like that — though Zelda would never have shared her opinion with the few people she'd managed to befriend.

"So what are you two doing here?" Sheik asked, opening the door to a neat, small room that was lined with weapons and maps of Hyrule on all four walls. She craned her head back and saw that the ceiling was a colossal map of a country that was almost entirely made up of swampland and forests. _Democres, _it said in snaking, twisted black letters across the bottom. Each forest, swamp, and mountain was labeled in the same lettering, but the words weren't anything she could pronounce._Dsaklimossfdgen? Prqnotca? _These weren't words; they were jumbles of letters. What kind of tongue could say them? "And who are you?" he asked, picking up a pile of metal stars and flopping down onto his bed.

"This is Zelda," Impa said, wincing as he tossed one of the metal shapes into the air and caught it. "And you're not going to be throwing those in here, are you?"

"You can duck. A fighter must be unafraid of anything." He tossed one at her with the flick of a wrist, and she grabbed a pillow and held it in front of her. Ripping the star out, she hurled it back at him, examining the hole in the pillow.

"We need to talk to the King of Hyrule," Zelda explained, watching Sheik glare at Impa and hold out his hand for the torn pillow. The star was embedded in the wall above his head. She didn't know what kind of relationship Impa and Sheik had, but it reminded her, bizarrely, both of herself and Dimitri — she winced at the thought of his name, but pushed it out of the way — and herself and her brother, Naran. The way they annoyed each other reminded her of siblings . . . but every so often she'd see Sheik's eyes dart down to Impa's not-inconsiderable breasts and slide up to her face before looking away.

It was an odd relationship, indeed.

"Why do I care?" Sheik said, tossing a star at the wall behind Zelda's head; she threw herself to the ground, not realizing until she was down that she didn't need to duck, that it would have missed her by at least a foot even if she hadn't budged.

Impa turned to him, her eyes wide with mock innocence. She looked like a cat that had been caught with its paw in the family's store of milk and knew that she'd get away with it. "I thought you were brave enough for any kind of adventure."

"And the adventure here is, what? An exciting conference? A thrilling meeting? Would there perhaps be the joys of filling out paperwork and waiting in line?"

"Not exactly." Impa stood, stretching — and Sheik's eyes slipped downward again. "Zelda here can't get anywhere near the castle without either being executed on sight or thrown into the dungeon."

Sheik looked at Zelda with new appreciation. Then his eyes narrowed. "And what exactly makes you think that I'll escort a wanted criminal into the castle? _I'm_ still loyal to the Sheikan order, and thus to the Royal family."

"As am I," Impa said. "I'm loyal to all Hylians. Which happens to include a lovely young stranger who was lost in Hyrule and was accused of being a traitor for no good reason, and who needs her name cleared." Impa smiled at Zelda, and Sheik stared at them both, his eyes widening. Zelda flushed and looked down.

"When did you get cool, Imp?" he asked, climbing to his feet.

Impa grinned. "I've always been cool," she said, watching with an appraising eye as Sheik moved around the room, gathering weapons. Zelda smirked and pretended she didn't see. "You've just been too stupid to notice."

* * *

"It's not that I'm not impressed with your ability to sneak into town," Impa said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "It's just that I was wondering when we would get to the going-into-the-castle part of the plan." She shivered and pulled her cloak closer around her. It was cold and rainy, just the kind of night to spend huddling behind a pile of Lon Lon Milk crates, watching the lights in the surrounding houses turn on and off.

"I thought you wanted me along to help," Sheik muttered. "If you weren't going to appreciate it, why did you practically drag me out the door?"

"I _do_ appreciate it," Impa said with a sigh. "Honestly, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"That wounded-puppy routine every time I try to say something. You're so touchy!"

"Touchy? Let's talk about last week, why don't we?"

"Let's not," Zelda said, leaning back and resting her head against the wet stones that made up the house they were ducking by. The weather wasn't getting any drier, her muscles weren't getting any less cramped from the endless crouch, and the two Sheikah's constant bickering wasn't getting any less annoying. "We can all pat ourselves on the back when this is done. Until then, I'm a little nervous sitting here with twenty guards posted outside, eager for my blood. The sooner this is all settled, the better." Impa and Sheik glanced at each other and rolled their eyes in unison, an act that only served to darken Zelda's mood. "Aren't you supposed to be warriors?" she snapped, almost loud enough for their one foil — a little girl sitting outside with her dog and playing in the puddles, with an older man standing in the doorway with his arms crossed — to hear. "Isn't part of that all about focus and _silence? _And preferably some sort of way to escape one five-year-old and her father? The rock-in-the-stream thing may have worked for the guards, but I think that the dad is going to notice anything and anyone that comes within a mile of the girl."

They both nodded, not looking very happy about it. "Okay, fine," Sheik said. "Zelda, hide behind that big crate." He pointed to the box that was hidden farther back in the alley. "When Impa gives you the signal, run. Get to the Temple of Time — it doesn't matter that you don't know what it is, it's the one building that looks like a big stone temple — and wait for me and Impa. I'll . . . take the dog, and the girl and her father will go after it. Impa, when we disappear, give the signal and run. Go around the house so that you can't both get caught, just in case the guards are alerted. I'll slip into an alley, get rid of the dog, lose the people, and come back to meet you. Simple enough. The guards should all be outside the castle or the market, so we don't have to worry about them until we get closer. Ready? Good."

"Wait! What's the signal?" Zelda asked.

"This is the stupidest plan ever," Impa said. "Seriously, you've spent four months taking Strategy and Espionage classes and _that's_ the best you can do?"

"Shut up."

"That's the signal?" Zelda said, stupid from the exhaustion and stress of the previous few days.

"Why don't _you_ come up with some espionage strategy, then?" Sheik snapped at Impa.

"I haven't _taken_ those classes yet. You're a year ahead of me, remember?" Their voices were getting steadily louder, and the little girl was glancing their way. The father, Zelda noticed, had ducked into the house, and she shoved Sheik forward, crawling behind the large crate.

"If you're going to do it, do it now."

He sighed and lunged forward, grabbing the dog and hugging it to his chest. The little girl stared at him in horror, then opened her mouth and screamed. "_DADDYYYYYYYYYYY!_" The sound cut through the rain with eardrum-shattering intensity honed by years of practice, and lights turned on in all the nearby windows. In a flash, the father was back in the doorway, armed with a long-necked bottle.

"Oh shit," Sheik hissed, then took off with the little dog in his arms. Impa, in a misguided attempt to avoid a confrontation, held the girl's shoulders and tried to calm her.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, the bad man won't get your dog, we'll find him, he'll give it back, it's okay, just stop screaming, please." The little brat just kept wailing. People were poking their heads out of doors and demanding what was going on in bleary voices. "Oh, for the love of Nayru, SHUT UP!" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zelda dart out from behind the crate, sprinting down the alley in plain sight, illuminated by the lights from the house behind her. She would have called out, but she figured that Zelda had bolted before she'd thought the motion through, and knew full well that it wasn't a good idea. She didn't want to call more attention to the blonde Hylian — or, in fact, to herself.

"STOP!" the girl's father roared, brandishing the bottle. He was roughly the build of a Goron, and Zelda stopped in her tracks. People snatched up bottles and boards of wood, moving towards them in a wide, uneven circle.

"Is someone threatening Maybelle, Joran?" one of them called.

"Those two," Joran said, gesturing with his bottle. "Another one stole the dog."

A gasp rippled through the crowd. "Not Flopsy!"

"FLOPSYYYYY!" Maybelle shrieked, and Impa decided that there was no way a confrontation could be avoided at this point.

"Zelda, _go!" _she cried, and let go of the girl's shoulders, turning and sprinting into the first empty alley she could find. The crowd followed her, possibly because she was the one who'd given the order, probably because she'd been the one who'd been menacing — in their eyes — the little girl. The father, however, was the only one who followed Zelda, after making sure that Maybelle had been handed off to one of the women of the town. Impa had to hope that Zelda could handle one man. If not . . .

She raced through the streets, dashing past — almost hitting — crates and barrels that would pop out of the darkness. She pressed herself against the wall and closed her eyes, hoping that the shadows would blanket her the way they always did, and she could slip away undetected.

The lights in the house behind her turned on, casting her long shadow onto the stones in front of her. She swore and started running again, looking for some sort of way out. There was a wall in front of her, decorated by banners bearing the Royal Family Crest. She leapt at it, grabbing one of the banners and shimmying up it, cursing the silk as it slipped through her fingers and almost made her fall. She sat on top of the wall, looking down at the crowd that gathered below. For a long moment they just stared at each other, but then she stood and lifted her hands up to her head. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone," she said. "I was not trying to do anything to that little girl, and I didn't want any sort of attack."

"What did you want?" one of them shouted.

"To get somewhere safe without being . . . well, seen." She shrugged, knowing that if she mentioned that one of her companions was on the Wanted posters at the entrance of the market, there was no way she'd be allowed down safely. "Listen, it's late, and we're all jumpy. I personally have a little liquor I'd like to sleep off, and I think it'd be best if we just forgot this and went to bed. No one got hurt, and everyone has a lot to do tomorrow, right?"

They grumbled amongst themselves and, to her amazement, turned around and walked away in groups of twos and threes, muttering. "I hope we never see _her_friends here again," one woman said. "If I hear even a whisper of someone being hurt by them . . ." "If I see them around, they'd better watch out."

Impa sighed with relief and sat back down on the wall. "Who knew that angry mobs were quelled by simple logic and exhaustion?" she whispered to the still night, which had stopped raining at some point during the chase.

When the mob had cleared away, she slid down to the ground and sneaked over to the Temple of Time, praying that her friends were as safe as she was.

* * *

Zelda slammed the door to the Temple of Time shut and ran to the end of one wall. She'd lost Joran, or hoped so. There was a chance that he'd seen the hem of her skirt or the tips of her hair as she flew around a corner. But still, she thought she had at least a few minutes to find a hiding place, even if he had seen her. _Luckily_, she thought, looking around at the huge, white temple with only an altar in it, _I chose the most open building in the world to hide in. If he saw me, I'm as good as dead._She, too, had noticed the posters of her face plastered on the wall of the town.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the altar wasn't lined up against the wall. There was an area behind it big enough for a normal person. She ducked into the crack and curled up into a ball, knowing that there wasn't really anything she could do if he found her; considering the number of options, if he looked in this temple, he_would_ find her. She clutched her skirts up around her knees and closed her eyes, ignoring the strange warmth of the wall next to her. _Don't let him find me._

The door opened and she held her breath, listening to it creak shut and the holy silence fall over the room again, broken only by the humming that made the air buzz with . . . something. She heard whoever it was take a few steps and fall to the floor with a groan. Deciding that the odds were in her favor, Zelda climbed to her knees, peeking over the top of the altar.

"Impa!"

The young woman looked up, her silver hair falling out of its ponytail, and smiled. "There you are. I was worried that the angry father had found you."

"No, I lost him. At least, I think I did." She crawled out of the hole and hurried over to her friend. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. We had a civilized chat, and the mob decided that they would rather sleep in their warm, cozy beds than play in the puddles with me. They all went home."

Zelda stared at her. "You're not serious, are you? That's the least warrior-esque story I've ever heard."

"Well, it's not cowering behind an altar, but it got me here safely," she said, giving Zelda a pointed look. "Besides, the Sheikah are also known for their finesse and diplomacy. It's not all blood."

"Help me! I'm bleeding!"

Zelda and Impa started at the familiar voice, and rushed out of the temple. Sheik was hopping on one leg at the foot of the steps to the temple. His other foot was trapped in the jaws of a ferocious terrier that was growling and drooling all over the ground. "I can't get him off without hurting him," he said through clenched teeth. "I don't want to cause a scene."

"I think you've already accomplished that," Impa said with a sigh. "Let's hope that father's gone home already."

"I can get him off," Zelda said. "I worked with animals for a couple of years, and I got pretty good with dogs." She knelt down next to the dog, which, now that Sheik had stopped moving, was happily gnawing on the boy's leg, its eyes closed with jubilation. "Flopsy? Hey, Flopsy!" She held out her hand, which Flopsy ignored. "Come here, honey. Let go of the nice boy's leg."

"Oh, Din," Sheik muttered, looking up at the sky and shaking his head.

Zelda ignored him, caressing the dog's mangy coat. "You don't like that nasty boy," she crooned. "Just let go of his leg, and we'll get you a nice treat, huh?" When this yielded no results, she wrapped her hands around its bony ribcage. "Lock your legs, Sheik," she instructed, and pulled back on the dog. Sheik's hands closed into fists, but he didn't make a sound as the dog's teeth were dislodged from his leg. Impa ushered Sheik into the Temple. Zelda waited until all three were inside before setting the dog free into the streets.

Sheik sat down and pulled up his pants leg, wincing. "Wow, look at all that blood," he said. "You'd make a _great_ healer."

"The scarring will be minimal, I think, and you certainly won't bleed to death."

"That's a world of comfort, thanks."

"Well, if you hadn't been so stupid as to get the dog stuck on your leg in the first place —"

"Stop it!" Impa snapped. "You two sound like . . ."

"Like _you_ and Sheik?" Zelda asked.

Impa snorted. "Yeah, I guess you do. So what do we do now?" she asked Sheik, who was wrapping bandages around his leg.

"Haven't gotten that far," he said with a confident grin. Impa put her head in her hands. "Don't worry, I'll figure something out." He bit his lip for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. "Just have. Let's go."

* * *

Quahi opened her eyes, struggling to rest on her elbows. Voices bounced against each other, giving her a headache. After a few bleary moments, she remembered what had happened; it didn't improve her headache.

_"Quahi?" _The voices echoed off each other, becoming louder and more frantic. _"Quahi?"_

She sat up, shaking her head, and glanced down at the little gold Triforce. It was gleaming, lighting up the dim clearing. _You, again. What did you do this time? _she thought with a sigh.

_"Quahi!"_ The bushes on the edges of the clearing rustled, and Moko's head poked out, a mane of leaves framing her frantic face. _"There you are! Listen, I-I tried to stop them, told them that you were safe, but they were _certain_ that the youiko had killed you. Or kidnapped you. They —" _She hesitated.

Quahi stared at her friend, suspecting where this was headed. _"What, Moko?"_

_"They've . . . they're going to kill him."_

She swore and struggled to her feet. _"Those idiots don't have a peaceful bone in their bodies," _she muttered. _"Where did they go?"_

_"Princess." _Moko held her by the shoulders. _"Listen, maybe it's fine. We'll find him and it'll all work out. Somehow."_

Quahi looked at the ground. _"Unless, of course, we don't reach them in time. Then those fools will . . ."_

_"Kill him."_ Shouts were heard off to their left. They only had a few minutes before the other girls came by. Moko sighed. _"Look. Come with me, okay? I think I know where he is."_


	6. Good and Evil Part II

Sheik sat on the roof, one hand resting on the stone gargoyle glowering down at them, his eyes closed. Impa and Zelda huddled in a corner, waiting for the signal to do . . . whatever he was planning on doing. After having found the way through the courtyard onto the roof — which seemed like the least likely place where they'd be spotted by anyone, and the easiest way to get to any room in the castle (on the top floor, at least) — he was at a loss. If they'd brought more supplies, he could find a way to get down safely, but the rain had started up again and it was getting increasingly slick up there.

Impa stared at him, her feet slipping toward the edge of the roof. "What are we going to do now?" They were positioned over the prince's bedroom; at least, that was what Sheik hoped. Light shone from the window, which meant that he was still awake — and possibly not alone. They couldn't risk being caught by anyone other than the prince, but they couldn't live up there forever.

"You _do _know what you're doing, right?" Impa said, glaring at him. "You have a plan. Because if you don't, we're just idiots on a roof."

Sheik opened his eyes and took a deep breath. "We need to talk to the king, right? And the prince will be more likely to listen to Zelda than his dad'll be. But we're not sure if this is the prince's window, so someone will need to check. And I, for one, think that Zelda should, since she's the one who knows him."

"What are you talking about?" Zelda asked. "We've all seen him. Anyone could tell what he looks like." She didn't bother to mention that _she_ hadn't recognized him on first sight. She didn't live there, so why would she be expected to?

"Yes, but if he turned around, he would be less afraid to see you out the window than me or Impa."

"I think he'd freak out either way. With our luck, he'd have a heart attack." She raised her eyebrows, hoping that the gesture would hide the way that her hands were shaking and her shoulders were tensed like she expected a blow to the head.

"He _knows_ you."

"I . . . I can't. I just can't."

"You have to."

Zelda stared at him, pleading with him to understand. "I . . . I can't do this. I'll do anything else, but . . . no. _Please_."

Sheik leaned over the edge of the roof, hooking his arm between the gargoyle's shoulder and its wing. He pointed down to the window. "Look, it's only five feet down, tops. This is easy." There was no way he was going to let her get out of this. Apparently Sheikah were immune to such trivial things as phobias.

She sighed. "I . . . Fine. Just for a second, though. If it takes longer than that, you can just forget it." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, imagining sliding down the wall with Impa or Sheik's hands on her wrists, the stones of the wall slipping away from her feet with every step, her body buffeted by gales of wind over a drop far too long to a landing far too painful. Their hands, slick with water, losing grip. Her scrabbling at the stones before impaling herself on a flagpole or smashing against the ground in a broken, bleeding lump. Her eyes snapped open. "I don't think I can do this."

Sheik shook his head. "Nope, you agreed," he said. Impa grabbed hold of her ankles, and Sheik wrapped his free hand around one of Impa's. "Go on," he said.

Now the visions were of her falling headfirst, to be impaled or smashed with every inch of terror right in front of her face. She froze, afraid to pull away for fear that she would tumble off the edge of the roof. "Oh. No."

"Come on," Sheik cajoled. "This is how all the Sheikah do it."

"I am not a Sheikah," Zelda said. "Which is exactly why _you_ should be doing this." _Calm, calm, calm, _she whispered to herself.

Unlike Sheik, Impa was not in the mood to try and convince anyone. "Put your hands on the wall and crawl down like it's horizontal," she said with a sigh. "An idiot could do it. In fact, an idiot has." She glared up at Sheik, who was too busy watching her ass to notice.

"Shut up," he said, though Zelda figured that he was just saying it because he expected her to lob an insult at him more than that he was actually listening.

Zelda took another deep breath, figuring that the longer they stayed up here, the number their hands would get and the more likely she'd fall to her death. All things considered, climbing seemed her best bet, no matter how much she'd prefer to live up there and stay far away from the edge and eat pigeons. As she pressed her hands against the wall and allowed herself to be lowered in a movement that was smoother than she ever would have expected from any human (Sheikah or Hylian), she couldn't help but call up, "Oh, yeah, _this_ feels safe," in a voice that was, to her credit, only a little high-pitched and shaky.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Zelly!" Sheik shouted, sounding so much like Dimitri that her hands went numb. Impa kicked him, causing their entire human ladder to shudder and Zelda to pitch forward with a shriek.

_"Shh!" _Impa hissed. "Secrecy is the most important element to any successful infiltration. Any sign of our presence could cause the enemy to —"

"Shut up, Imp," Sheik said. "Zelda, just keep your hands on the wall. That'll steady you if the wind picks up. We'll keep lowering you down. We will not drop you. I promise."

The sudden change in his tone calmed her. It seemed that, whatever Impa said, Sheik _did_ have both a rational and a compassionate bone in his body. She took a deep breath and allowed herself to slide down the wall without a sound, keeping her eyes shut and her breathing slow and steady. She thought about Sheik's voice. _"We will not drop you. . . . We will not drop you. . . . I promise. . . ."_

She cracked one eye open. "Stop!" The top of the window was coming into view, and she could see the maroon walls and part of the cream ceiling of a bedroom. If she kept going, her hair would have been visible to anyone inside. She squeezed her eyes shut again, pushed off of the wall, and gathered her hair in one hand, gratefully pressing the other against the cool, slick stones again. "Okay. Go." As the room inched past her, she saw inside the outline of a person in bed. From the fluff of blond hair sticking out of the blanket, they had found the prince's room.

The door eased open, a tall woman with long black hair tied into a bun slipped into the room, and after a moment Daphnes sat up. "Pull me up!" she cried, her voice shrill with panic. Once she was safe (relatively, at least) on the roof, she scrambled away from the edge, breathing hard. "I don't want to do that again," she said, holding one shaky hand to her mouth.

"You did fine," Impa said, once it was obvious that Sheik had abandoned the reassuring demeanor. He was leaning over the edge, looking down at the room through the haze of the rain.

"Was it the right place?" he asked.

Zelda nodded. "Definitely. It was the place. I did what you told me to. I'm done now, okay?"

Impa groaned, but Sheik glared at her. "We'll deal with that later. Was someone else in there?"

"A woman. I don't know who. She looked angry. Maybe they'll talk for a while."

"We have to be out of here before daybreak," Impa said. "There's no way the guards will miss us when the sun's out."

"Hours to go, Imp." Sheik turned back to Zelda. "Listen, I know you don't want to go back down there —"

Zelda shook her head. "Won't."

"Right. But, listen, you haven't really done what you need to. We've still got to talk to the prince, make sure he can get you off the Most Wanted list and back into the castle. You need to be there to help the Zora. So . . . we'll give you ten minutes to rest, but then we have to lower you down again." Zelda's eyes were growing with each word, and he hastily added, "And the sooner you get into the prince's room, the sooner you'll be safe on solid ground. And not on this roof."

She stared from him to Impa and back again. Impa tried for a smile and held out her hand, which Zelda took. "I don't want to wait ten minutes," she said.

* * *

Daphnes knew who was knocking on his door even before she spoke. "Prince Daphnes."

He set his book on the floor and curled up into a ball just as the door opened, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He heard the gentle click-clack-clack of her heels as she crossed the room, standing over him in the same position, he knew, as she always stood over him: feet planted shoulder-width apart, hands on bony hips, long nose pointed down at him like an accusing finger with nostrils.

"Prince Daphnes, I have an urgent matter of which to speak with you." They were all urgent matters. Nothing, however, was urgent enough to talk about in the middle of Chapter Fifty-Six. He took another deep breath, making sure to make a soft, snuffling snore that was as convincing as the real thing. There was a moment of silence, and then the woman, who went by the formidable name of Miss Menac — which, as Daphnes had tried to tell his parents when he was younger, was just one letter shy of "Menace" — tapped her foot three times. CLICK-CLACK-CLACK. _"Daphnes."_

He groaned inwardly, then faked a huge yawn and a stretch. "M-Miss Menac? What a lovely surprise," he said, rubbing at his eyes. "What brings you here?"

"Your affinity and talent for falsehoods will suit you well in your later years, especially when it comes to the matters of marriage." She perched on the edge of the bed, smoothing the skirt of her long-sleeved, high-necked red dress. "But that is not what I wish to discuss. I need to speak with you about the missing woman. Zelda, did you say her name was?"

"Yeah," Daphnes murmured. His eyes were fixed on the spot just behind Miss Menac's left shoulder. That spot happened to be right where his window was. "What about her?"

"Your parents would like to know whether this woman said anything . . . well, anti-governmental-establishment-esque." When Daphnes didn't reply, or even look at her, she narrowed her eyes. "To you. Recently."

Daphnes shook his head, and Miss Menac nodded. "Well. I suppose that should be all for tonight. You seem rather tired. We'll talk more about this in the morning. Eight o'clock on the dot." He didn't say anything, and she nodded again to herself. "Good. Have a pleasant sleep, Prince Daphnes."

"You too," he said, and barely noticed when the door creaked shut behind her. He refused to look away from the window.

If he kept staring long enough, there was the possibility that Zelda might appear again.

* * *

Zelda couldn't help but notice how cold Impa's hands were on her ankles, couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for their hands to lose feeling entirely and loosen enough for her to plummet to her death. Still, she kept her eyes on the glowing rectangle of light below her head. _Warm, safe. Warm . . . safe. Dry. Safe. Warm._

With the words repeating in her head, she kept her eyes open as she slipped down the wall. "I'm okay," she whispered. "I'm okay. I'll be okay."

"There yet?" Impa shouted, apparently having forgotten her insistence on quiet. Before beginning the hellish trip down again, Zelda had taken a good, long look at both the people who'd be saving her from a sudden, nasty end. Sheik had seemed in pain, and had kept rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck and back. Impa had looked like she was going to fall asleep at any moment. Both seemed irascible, and she figured that they were just as eager to get inside as she was.

Zelda didn't answer for a second, focusing all her energy on the next step. Taking a huge breath, she called up, "Just another foot!" and prepared to pass into Daphnes' view. She hoped he wouldn't try to get her shot. She hoped the windows opened inward, or at all.

And strangely enough, she hoped he was happy to see her. Not just because she needed him, though that was certainly true. As weird as it seemed, she missed him; he was the first and one of the only people to treat her kindly since she'd arrived, and he was always eager to help her out. Despite the reasons she'd left the castle, and despite the adventures she'd had, part of her still wished she could have stayed and continued to play cards and wander the huge building with him, making up histories for the people in the portraits and tapestries. Those were nice days, if a little boring.

So she took a deep breath and tapped on the window, watching his pale, thin face turn to hers.

* * *

"Zelda," he whispered, and scrambled out of bed. He'd almost given up, and had returned to his book with many glances towards the window between paragraphs. But there she was, her skirt held between her knees, her hair blowing in a face dirty and exhausted and scared. He rushed to the window and threw it open, taking her upper arms and drawing her into the room. "What . . . what happened? Are you okay?" He fought the urge to hug her and bustled around the room. "I-I don't have anything for girls to wear, but I have some clothes you might like. They'd be a nice change from the wet," he said, and snatched up a shirt and pants, holding them out for her inspection. "Would you like them?"

She smiled and accepted the offerings. "Thanks, but I have to make sure my friends can get down here." She went back to the window and stuck her head out, making sure to clutch at the windowsill. Daphnes recognized it in a flash: the white knuckles, the shaking legs. Zelda was afraid — hell, "terrified" didn't seem like such a far-fetched word — of heights. She shouted something that was lost in the wind, and stepped back as a young man and woman leapt into the room.

"Sheikah?" he said, looking from one pair of red eyes to the other. "What's going on?"

The man held out his hand, which was wrapped in dripping white bandages. "Name's Sheik. Got any clothes for me and my Imp here?"

Impa shoved him aside. "Prince Daphnes, we need your assistance. Zelda will fill you in on everything." She bowed, and then she and her friend began rummaging through his drawers, pulling out clothes and making faces at them. When they'd both found outfits that were suitable, they disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Zelda and Daphnes alone.

"I always thought Sheikah were supposed to be all-business and . . . well, civil," he said faintly.

"They've been through a lot," she replied, flopping down on the floor in her soaking clothes. "Wanna hear about it?"

* * *

_The ocean stretched out in front of him, its clear blue waves shimmering. But there was something dark about the water — or maybe _in_ the water — that made him dig his heels into the sand. "I can't go in there, I can't, I can't, it's —"_

"You can, and you will,"_ the voice hissed at him. He felt his feet move, but he didn't move them. He felt his breath catch, as though he was running hard, but he wasn't running. He wasn't controlling his body._

_"What's going on? I don't —" A hand — his own — gripped his neck, strangling him._

_The evil voice snarled again, _"You don't have to understand. Just _shut up!" The hand loosened, and he continued his steady pace as though nothing had happened. No matter how hard he tried, his fingers wouldn't unclench from their fists, his legs wouldn't change their rhythm. He couldn't even close his _eyes_, by the Goddesses!_

_He reached the water and looked down. If he could, he would have jumped away, or cried out, or . . . anything. His hair was spiky and reddish-brown. His eyes were an evil, piercing red. He had long yellow fangs that looked canine. With the sight, whatever had had its hold on him vanished, and he managed to stagger backwards and collapse to the ground, sobbing._

_The message was clear: The relic that had a hold on him, the darkness in the waters, the darkness that was really all around, had always _been_ all around . . . it wasn't going away. It wasn't going to be beaten. It was going to sink its teeth and dig its claws in deeper until they became a part of him. Until there was no difference between him and the thing he feared._

_Message received

* * *

_

Demi woke up with a cry, the sunlight hot and heavy on his skin. "What . . ." he moaned, before collapsing backwards, the effort too much to expend.

_What are you doing? Get up! They are coming after you!_

Dimitri wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked back and forth, trembling. "Go away," he whispered, knowing it would be useless.

_They are after you! Get _up_!_

He rose to his feet shakily. "Who are after me?"

_The girls on the beach! They want to kill us!_

Dimitri rubbed his eyes again, feeling a little less like his skin was stretched too tight. "They want to kill _you," _he said, staggering into the shade. "They don't give a damn about me."

_You and I are the same. You found me. You followed me. You are _mine_. There is no going back._

The bushes rustled, and Quahi hurried out. She held onto Dimitri's hands and stared at him, her eyes pleading. "_Demi_, _hino yae kirara nolu! Youiko, di niso-re!"_

He had no clue what her words meant. But he thought that the Dark Triforce did. _What is she saying? _he thought. It didn't respond. _Come _on! _I'm yours, aren't I? We're on the same team, aren't we? I deserve to know what's going on!_

_She . . . wants us to follow her. The girls are after you, and she wants you to escape._

He had a feeling, from the reluctant way it repeated her words, that it was telling the truth. "All right, then. Let's go." Quahi stared at him blankly. He nodded.

Another girl, with long hair and black eyes, entered the clearing. She smiled. _"Tinai gra dans, no-see? Youiko ist raino."_

_I was right, wasn't I? The boy is here. _The Dark Triforce translated her words.

A spear sliced through the air and landed in a tree. Battle cries were heard from beyond the clearing. Quahi grabbed Demi's hand and pulled him through the forest. He had no clue where they were going, but Quahi seemed to know, and she led him and the other girl — whose name was Moko, he learned eventually — to the beach on the other side of the woods.

She gestured to a boat that was anchored by the shore. _"Finia der."_

_Get in. _Dimitri nodded again and climbed into the boat.

Another spear flew through the air towards Dimitri. He ducked to the side and it hit Quahi square in the chest. Her eyes flew open, and she gripped the thin wooden shaft with shaking hands. A small cry escaped her lips, and she fell to her knees. Moko ran to her side. She pulled the spear out of Quahi's chest, and wrapped long white bandages around the wound. _"Mai ty terru. Mai ty terru."_

_You'll be okay._

The girls stood in the shadow of the forest, staring in shocked horror at what they had done. One had the sense to rush over and help their princess. Another looked up at the sky, and cried out, _"Kuoo tih, wes ghu!"_

_Look out, the sun._

Moko leapt back, just missing the rays. The beams of light hit Quahi, and she shrieked, her body going rigid. The light hit her skin, and the red welts covered her, bleeding and burning. Steam actually rose up into the afternoon air. Her skin charred and blackened, peeling off in little flakes. A horrible scream filled the air, making Dimitri cover his ears and scream with it. Finally her body went limp, and she whispered, so softly that only Demi and Moko could hear her: _"Edill."_

_Run._

Demi grabbed the boat and pushed it out into the water, taking a long knife and cutting the rope holding the boat to the shore. Moko stared at him, looking more sad and scared than angry. _"Hablai est-id lok-id?" _she shrieked, holding the broken body in her arms and struggling to her feet. _What do I do now? _The other girls began shouting curses at him, throwing spears, rocks, anything they could find. But he was out of their range, and they had to wait for the sun to set to come any closer.

Finally the little island disappeared in the distance. Demi clutched the little oars, blocking out anything except the soothing back-and-forth motion of the rowing.

Of course, some things wouldn't be forced out._ You see now, don't you? That girl died because of you. We are one and the same. You cannot escape._

"That was an . . . accident," he grunted, making himself row even faster. "Not . . . my fault."

_It _was_ your fault. You were _there,_ you were the reason she gave up her life. You are not the saint you think you are. You are not the boy you were a few days ago. You are mine now, and you will never be simple again._

Dimitri ignored him. Back-forth, back-forth. The watched the ripples the water made, felt the swells of the waves under his ship. They were like a heartbeat, pushing him forward. He liked that idea.

"I am part of this," he said to the Dark Triforce. "This force of nature. Hyrule. I'm connected to it. Are you?"

_Everything you are, I am. Everything I am, you are._

He laughed, the sound as sharp and alarming as a dog's bark. "Oh, yeah? So you're saying that I'm now thousands of years old and disembodied? And you're a teenage boy who's girlfriend is . . . well, who knows where she is?"

_Your girlfriend? Was she, really?_

No. Not really. Not the way he'd always wanted her to be. But that didn't matter, because he'd loved her long before she'd even noticed him, and they'd had a bond before they'd even spoken. She was his, and he was hers, just as much as he was the Dark Triforce's. If he had such light as hers within him, he had to be good.

Zelda hadn't told him where she was going. But then again, she hadn't told him that she loved him, and that was obvious, too. If there was anyplace in the Great Continent that she would want to go, it would be Hyrule.

And so, to Hyrule he would follow, for his love and his salvation.


	7. Taking Charge

**CHAPTER 4**

Koume looked out the window of her little hut. Her eyes scanned the rolling sea of dunes as though she could see the farthest reaches of the desert.

"Koume! Get away from the window!" Kotake's harsh voice echoed from the back of the house. "Do _something_ useful, won't you?"

"But where is he?" Koume asked. "He's supposed to be back by now!" She paused. "You don't think he went back to the Gerudo, do you?"

"Of course not," Kotake snapped, entering the room. She held a pot filled with a green potion. "He wouldn't abandon his mothers, now would he? Hold this."

Koume nodded. They'd raised him from birth. Of course he respected them. "But don't you think that he'll want to be with his own people?"

"We _are_ his own people, Koume. We're Gerudo. The fact that we were banished is irrelevant." She took a vial out of her pocket and filled it with the shimmering liquid, then held it under her sister's nose. "Does this smell right to you?"

"Yes, but I don't think —"

"Listen, Koume, I'm sick of arguing this with you. He will not leave. For Eliena's —"

"_Shh!_" Koume leapt to her feet, her hands fluttering like small birds. "Don't invoke her name!"

Kotake sighed; her sister was so superstitious, just like the others. "For the sake of the Desert Goddess, then, where would he _go_? The Gerudo don't want him, as far as he's concerned, because they don't want us. We've taught him everything we know. Well . . . most of what we know." She took another sniff of the potion, then slipped the vial back into her pocket and grabbed several large water jugs. Dipping one into the vat, she said, "We've raised him the right way, and so he's not Gerudo enough for them. They won't want him, and he won't want them. When he's ready, we'll send him to take over and be our kind of King. Until then, he is perfectly content."

"He'll leave soon, ready or not." She shifted the pot, wincing at its weight. "I don't know if he's even happy here anymore. He'll want to leave, won't he?"

"Of course not. Just trust your sister." She took the vat back from Koume with a sigh, muttering about her weakness. "Ganondorf won't abandon us ever, and he won't take back the Gerudo until we allow it."

* * *

Nabooru knelt down, her face inches away from a spot of turned-over sand. "Damn. I think we missed it."

Her friend Krysu shook her head, eager for the chance to prove Nabooru wrong. "I don't think so," she said, pointing to a nearby dune. "Stay here."

"No way!" She leapt into the air, sprinting for the area of sand. "I want to catch it!" As she approached the dune, there was an explosion of sand, and a red Leever burst into the air. It whirled around and zoomed toward Nabooru, who had to roll out of the way. She snatched up her scimitar. "That little bastard's gonna die!"

Before she could move, however, Krysu's sword chopped it in half. She scooped up the pieces and stuck them in her basket. "That's one for me," she said, a smug little smile on her face. "Thanks for waking it up, Naboo. I could never have gotten it without you."

Nabooru cringed at the nickname, her face turning red. "You filthy Shiekah! You _tricked_ me!"

"Hey, you're the best fighter our age. _Someone_ has to be the smart one."

Nabooru vowed to get every single Leever they found. She was faster and stronger than Krysu; that catch was just dumb luck, and her friend knew it. "This isn't over. I'm going to have a Leever feast tonight."

"You don't even _like_ them."

She opened her mouth to retort — "_Hey, it's food" _was the first reply that came to mind — when something caught her eye in the distance. It was definitely not a Leever, since they weren't close enough for a red one to attack, and it was moving with too much purpose to be a blue one. Besides, it was much too big.

"What's that?"

Krysu didn't even look up; she was busy scanning the desert. "Oh, you're not tricking me with _that."_

"No, I mean it." She stepped closer, crouching behind a dune. "I think it's a person."

As they got closer, they realized that it was a boy. He was picking up sticks and throwing them as far as he could. He had shoulder-length red hair and orange eyes that were strange for their species, but aside from that he was definitely a Gerudo. He ran out of sticks and picked up a long scimitar, swinging it back and forth almost lazily.

"Think it's a mutt?" Nabooru asked.

"What? That's impossible! Mutts don't exist, and you know it. Gerudo would never dare mate with anyone that wasn't —"

"If anyone still believes that nonsense, I'll eat my sword. Half of us _are_ mutts." Her eyes lit up as another idea occurred to her. "Could he be the king?"

Krysu threw her hands up into the air, almost revealing their hiding place. "Now you're just being ridiculous. Of course the king is alive somewhere so that he can preserve our sacred bloodline, but it is far from likely that his heroic soul would keep him so near our home without him coming to rescue us and restore the throne!"

Nabooru sighed. "You really do eat up all the crap the elders feed you, huh? Most of them don't even believe that stuff." She glanced around the dune again, her legs itching to move. "I can't sit here any longer, and we're not going to get any answers hiding out here, are we?"

"Talking to a male who is not the king —"

"Is forbidden. Exactly. But if he is the king, then I'm in luck, huh? So I'm gonna go talk to him. Have fun picking Leevers."

"Wait —"

Keeping her hand a safe distance from her sword to avoid appearing threatening, Nabooru climbed out from behind the dune and strode toward him, making sure to stomp on the sand so that he wouldn't be caught by surprise; it was never a good idea to scare someone with a sword. Once he'd looked up, she allowed her fingers to creep a little closer to her scimitar. "Who are you? Name _and_ rank," she said, hoping her voice held the right amount of authority and contempt.

He didn't appear perturbed. "Gannondorf. No rank that I know of. And you?"

She lifted her chin, trying to hide the fact that the name had rung any sort of bell, even if she couldn't remember where she'd heard it. "That is none of your concern." The seconds stretched by, and she blurted out, "Are you authorized to live in this section of the desert? It is under Gerudo control."

The boy smiled; it was sneaky and a little smug. "My mothers don't need authorization to live here."

_Mothers? _Nabooru wrinkled her nose. Lesbianism was technically forbidden in the Fortress — as was all non-reproductive sexual activity — but was something almost all Gerudo indulged in now and again, and more frequently if the king was ugly (or missing). However, it was never something that interested Nabooru. Then it hit her: Ganondorf.

_"Is there still gonna __be_ a king? I mean, are we just stuck unless we find Ganondorf . . . It's been fifteen years. I don't even think people are even still looking since Koume and Kotake took him."

She'd been eavesdropping on the three women once she'd heard something about a Hylian in the valley, and the mention of the king had surprised her too much to find a good hiding place (which was probably part of the reason why she'd been immediately sentenced to scavenge for Leevers). The mothers had to be Koume and Kotake, and that made this boy — without a shadow of a doubt — the king of the Gerudo.

A small smile touched the corners of her lips. Krysu was going to be so mad that she was wrong.

"Well, Ganondorf, I think that I am authorized to tell you that you are playing on Gerudo ground, and that I will be forced to take action."

He looked up, a spark of anger in his eyes. "Playing? I was training!"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Pretty poorly, then. If you'd like to learn how one would train to actually _win _a fight, I could deign to teach you. However —"

_"Nabooru!"_ Krysu appeared at her shoulder and grabbed her arm. "That's the gong. We have to go back for training."

Nabooru hesitated, weighing the punishment of being late versus her desire to find out more about the king and what he was doing all the way out there. She'd missed plenty of training practices, and the results were painful and sometimes humiliating. "Meet me back here around sundown if you want to learn how to fight," she said, and walked away without another word.

* * *

"Listen to me, Daphnes, they are starving out there."

"Zelda, I don't understand exactly what you expect me to do. I'm not the king, and I can't help the Zoras _or_ the Gerudo."

Sheik and Impa stood in the corner of the room, looking at all the jewels and finery. Impa smacked Sheik's hand for pocketing a gold watch. With a sigh, he returned it to its spot. "I was gonna give it back," he muttered.

"When?"

"After I got a good amount of money for it."

She slapped his arm. "Grow up. Don't be such a Gerudo."

Zelda sat cross-legged on Daphnes' bed, watching him pace around the room. He kept shooting her anguished glances and running his hands through his hair. Finally she sighed and demanded, "Okay, tell me. What _exactly_ is your problem with talking to your father about the Zora?"

He opened his mouth, gestured vaguely with his hands, and then sighed and shook his head.

"Does your dad really scare you that much?" she asked.

"It's not him," Daphnes said. "It's just that . . . I'm going to be the king someday. I'm going to have to make these huge, Hyrule-changing decisions. And do I think I can do that? Sometimes I do. But that isn't the point." He climbed up onto the bed and knelt in front of her, his words coming faster and more urgent. "The point is that everything I say _now_ is being judged by the king's advisors, to see how fit a king I will be. And if they don't like what I say, then when my father dies, I will have no power and the kingdom will be run by them. And I don't like to speak poorly of my soon-to-be advisors, but they're not the most generous and understanding of people."

Zelda looked confused. "Couldn't you just have them fired or thrown in the dungeon or something when you're king? You'll _be_ the king."

"You fail to understand the nuances of noble court at all, don't you?"

"No. I grew up on a farm, remember?"

He nodded. "Ah, right. Well, these men have been around for a long, long time, and they know who to talk to and what to say to make sure that nothing you suggest will ever be made into law — including throwing them into the dungeons. A king's law is not always absolute if it isn't backed by his advisors, and none of them will support being fired. My father still has the power to make decisions because he chooses ones that favor the Hylians, at least as far as he power spreads."

"Which is far?"

"Vast. The Hylian king doesn't technically rule all of Hyrule — the Zora, Gerudo, and Goron domains are each under their own leaderships — but Hylians provide such a large number of services to the rest of Hyrule that, if the king didn't like, say, the Gerudo, he could make it so that none of our trade would make it to them, or to anyone that supported them."

"And the Gerudo would have nothing to eat."

"And they would have nothing to eat," he repeated, obviously pleased at her understanding. "So I have to make a good impression on them so that I might still be able to manipulate them into doing what I want when the time comes."

"This is all _very_ fascinating," Sheik said from the corner of the room, where he was lounging on a pile of pillows, "but can we either get something done or order food?"

Zelda ignored him. "And he would never support the Zora? Your father, I mean."

Daphnes sighed. "My father is a loving man when it comes to his family and friends, but he is still ruled by his advisors, and has had years of prejudices built up by flawed lessons in school and a sheltered lifestyle. Only by achieving slight freedoms and exploring the lands of Hyrule on my own have I been able to escape —"

"I'm going to shoot myself," Sheik groaned. "Impa, hand me the arrows."

"Fine." Zelda glowered at Sheik, and then turned back to Daphnes. "So what do you suggest?"

He looked down at the floor. "I'm not sure," he began. Then his head snapped up and he beamed. "You!"

"Me?"

"Yes, you!" He took her hands. "You're something of an . . . an oddity. Not one of the court, and not even one of the mainland. You have no natural biases towards the Hylians or the Zora, nor do you have any prior knowledge of political or socio-economic struggles between the two. Don't you see?"

Zelda had always considered herself smart, but she hadn't understood most of that last sentence. "Not even a little bit."

"You're a diplomat of the best kind! Well, without a noble background, of course, but that might work in our favor, since you would be able to confuse him with your way of speaking. He tends to agree with things that confuse him so that he doesn't sound idiotic. You might be able to convince him to take action."

"My 'way of speaking'?"

"Don't worry, it's quite quaint." Zelda thought about getting angry at that comment, but it was obvious that Daphnes would have no idea what had offended her, and he was so excited that she couldn't upset him; it would have been like yelling at a happy puppy for being too loud.

She did still have to bring him back to reality. "I don't know a whole lot about diplomats, but I have a feeling that most of them aren't wanted for being Gerudo spies."

He looked puzzled, then laughed. "Espionage? _You?_ Who would ever be foolish enough to think such a thing?"

"Your father."

"Oh." He deflated somewhat, and slumped back against the headboard. "Surely there is no proof to support this."

"I stole a horse and went into the Gerudo fortress."

He sighed. "Of course you did." He sat up. "I'll just have to tell them that it's not true, and that you simply didn't know where you were headed. They did not accept you, did they? You were chased away?"

"Somewhat."

"Good! And the Zora rescued you. . . . Wait." Daphnes looked at her. "The king doesn't believe in goodness for goodness' sake. We need a reason for why the Zora would rescue you."

"They knew that Zelda was precious to the prince," Sheik said dryly.

Daphnes flushed and whipped around. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Nothing. Carry on with your fascinating discussion." Impa grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the hallway. "We're going for a walk," she announced. "I think it'd be for the best."

Once they had left, Zelda turned back to Daphnes. "They needed my help. What other motive could they have?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure my father will like that, but I suppose there are no other options." He stood to go downstairs, and turned back to her expectantly. "Are you not coming?"

She raised her eyebrows. "If I leave your room, I'll have ten spears in me before you can say a word."

Daphnes ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose I must concede to your point. What if you stay here until I can convince them of your innocence, and one of those two Sheikah you were with can come to fetch you." He turned toward the door. "Do you suppose that they will be willing to argue for your case?"

Zelda laughed. "Daphnes, I don't think you'll be able to find them. They're either halfway to home or the dungeon."

He sighed. "I will do what I can. Just . . . don't go anywhere. If someone comes, hide."

She saluted with two fingers and grinned. "As you say, Your Majesty." He flushed at the formality and hurried out of the room.

* * *

"You are well aware that you are a serious risk for all of Hyrule, and that your stay and actions will be closely watched?"

Zelda nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor as Impa had suggested. "They like everyone to know that they're the most important people in the room. Especially her."

"And that this acquiescence is not an agreement of your innocence, but a — _reluctant_ — acknowledgement of an apparent lack of proof for your guilt." She clicked her tongue and waited; a nod was not going to be sufficient. The queen wanted to _hear_ Zelda admit how much power she had.

"Yes, Your Highness. I understand."

"Good." She sat back in her chair, silently turning the meeting over to her husband. He nodded at Daphnes and allowed him to step forward.

"Father, Miss Zelda has come to me with an urgent message from our allies, the Zora. I will allow her to relay their message, but would like to add how much faithful service we have received from the Zora in the past decades, and how much we owe them every day."

Zelda refrained from rolling her eyes, but as Daphnes stepped back and escorted her forward — though "shoved" might have been more accurate, since the pressure on her back wasn't nearly as gentle as it could have been — she whispered, "Smooth. Very regal." He gave her one last push, and she stumbled a bit. Trying her best to regain her dignity, she straightened her dress, lifted her chin, and began. "Your Majesties . . . ah . . ." Her mind went blank. Was "Majesties" the proper term for it? Were they both, in fact, Majesties? Should she have said "Highnesses"? Was that a word?

Daphnes cleared his throat, which snapped her back to reality.

"I come as an ambassador . . . or, an unofficial diplomat . . . for the Zora!" There. She was getting somewhere. She was here for the Zora. "They are facing a serious problem with fish. As in, the fish are gone, and since that's all they eat . . . they're worried about it." She turned to Daphnes desperately, but he smiled and mouthed, "Quaint." Quelling angry responses, Zelda returned her attention back to the king. "They've sent a letter, and they suspect the Gerudo are behind it. The situation, not the letter. They're worried that the Gerudo are sneaking into Hyrule, which would kind of suck — I mean, be a huge problem for us. As Hylians. In Hyrule. So . . ." She handed him the letter, which was damp and wrinkled, and sighed; she hoped more than anything that she hadn't just ruined Prince Zora's last chance. Maybe Daphnes was right, and the King would find it confusing or cute or whatever. "That's the problem," she muttered, while the man read over the note.

"I see. Hmm. Well," he said, folding the letter closed and putting it in his pocket, "that's quite a problem they have. What if the Gerudo were no longer granted time in the Market?" Zelda was confused for a moment, until she thought back to the entrance of the little town; the sign had read "Gerudo can only enter on the third and fourth days of every week from noon to midnight. Any violators will be arrested." The king continued. "If they were truly stealing the Zora's fish, then I think that they have forfeited their right to trading with us." He looked down at her. "I thank you for your assistance, and am sure that this will reflect well on you when we consider your future in Hyrule."

Daphnes moved closer to Zelda. "Is that all?" he demanded. "Would it really be so much trouble to send a few men down to the Domain and help them look around . . . ?" He fell silent, looking surprised at his outburst.

The king smiled, and it was the first genuine smile that Zelda had ever seen from him. "My dear son, your desire to help others is rewarding. However, you are still too young to understand reality. We cannot send our men to help the Zora — putting us at a greater risk, no less — on such little proof as a strip of cloth. You must realize that."

Daphnes nodded. "Yes, Father," he said, looking down at the floor. "Thank you."

After they were safely out of the throne room, Zelda said, "You know that won't help, right? It will just make everyone angrier."

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "But I do not know what I can do."

Sheik muttered, "Bet that Triforce idea isn't looking so dumb now, huh, Imp?"

Daphnes froze. "The Triforce?" he said. "That's a possibility."

* * *

"I swear, Krysu, he's the King of the Gerudo. I get to train the King of the Gerudo!" Nabooru leaned back in her chair until it was balancing on one leg. "Clearly the goddesses have recognized my obvious talents and are rewarding me for them," she said with a smug grin.

"Well, then, your incredible talents will be tested when you're sneaking out."

"What?" Nabooru asked, popping a Leever into her mouth and bringing her chair down. "Why would I? We're allowed to exercise outside the Fortress at night."

"Apparently Lenea saw you hanging out talking with him, and she was mad. She said that you couldn't go anywhere, and that you have to talk with her after dinner."

Nabooru paused. "You're telling me that Lenea saw me talking to the king of the Gerudo, and the only thing that came into her mind was to yell at me?" She laughed. "I mean, I'll be the first to admit that I'm annoying —"

"Second," Krysu muttered.

"— but I still feel that maybe, _maybe, _it might be more worthwhile to investigate what the king is doing out in the desert. Wouldn't you think?"

Krysu sighed, refusing to be won over by humor. "She said that you were talking to someone, and that she thought it was a merchant from Ryia. She wants you to stop flirting and told me to tell you that the least you could've done was steal from the guy. She expects to see some very good treasures."

"Really? Lenea said that?"

"She trained under Aveni. You shouldn't be surprised."

Nabooru rolled her eyes. "Well, you're just so much fun today, aren't you?" She considered asking what was wrong, but there was no point. Krysu was too well-trained to give into anything as silly as sharing emotions. Besides, Nabooru was late. "Listen, tell Lenea that I thought I could get something better if I met him later at night, where we weren't under pressure from the heat and my duties. She'll eat it up, I promise." She snatched up a piece of dried meat and hurried out the door.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Nabooru didn't turn around. The Gerudo were thieves, after all. Krysu would just have to get used to it.

* * *

A wave crashed over the side of the little boat, overturning it. Demi held on to the edge, praying that he would get to Hyrule alive. The water calmed, looking as pristine and beautiful as usual. Dimitri pushed the boat upright, climbing back in and scanning the water for any lost supplies. It was getting harder every time a wave came, and part of him wanted to abandon the effort.

_There. _The image of a hand, pointing to the west, flashed into his mind for a second. Sure enough, when he turned in that direction he saw his little bag of food and the hilt of a knife bobbing in the ocean.

Dimitri nodded a weak thank-you to the Dark Triforce and rowed over to the supplies, tying them to his belt with numb, clumsy fingers. He was getting exhausted fast. "The waves are brutal, aren't they?" he said weakly. "Nothing like the . . . like the waves . . . and the sea. . . ." His mind was getting distracted. "I'd like to sleep," he said to himself. When he couldn't immediately come up with a reason why he shouldn't, he laid down on the floor of the boat and closed his eyes.

_Get up! _the Dark Triforce snarled at him, sounding a bit panicked. _You have to make it to shore. You're dehydrated._

"Dehy . . . No water?" The second he said the word, his tongue seemed to moan with pain. It felt like a piece of dried fruit, and his spit seemed to have congealed into some sort of glue that stuck the walls of his parched throat together and made it hard to breathe. "Not worth it," he mumbled, and let himself drift off to sleep with the frightened voice of his master shrieking in his mind.

* * *

Zelda put her hand on Daphnes' shoulder. "You're not serious, right? I mean, I thought that the Triforce was just a dream." She looked up at Impa. "Isn't that what you said?"

Impa sighed. "It's a fool's fantasy. A magic relic that would grant peace and wealth to all of Hyrule?"

"Not if I got it," Sheik said with a grin. "Just a lot of topless women."

Impa decided to ignore that comment, as did the others. "Your Highness, it really isn't a viable solution. You must realize that."

Daphnes wasn't listening to any of them. "It sounds insane, I know, but if you really think about it . . ."

"It's twice as insane," Zelda said.

"Open your mind, Zel. I mean, Miss Zelda." The nickname disarmed her — and the backpedaling even more so — and she sighed.

"All right. For the sake of argument, let's say that it's real." Impa rolled her eyes and walked away with Sheik on her heels. "Why hasn't anyone found it?"

"They're not as lucky as we are." He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the hall, pausing in front of his door. "Miss Zelda — unless I may call you by an abbreviation?" When she nodded, he said, "Zel, whatever you do, don't tell anyone about this."

"About your crazy search for the Triforce? Don't you think everyone will figure it out eventually?"

"No, not that. Just come in." Daphnes closed the door behind him began pacing a path from the bathroom door to his bed and back again. She sat down on the bed and watched him think aloud.

"I know I can't find the Triforce on my own, and I doubt you can find it. So I thought that we could get help."

"From who? The Sheikah? I don't think they'd be too successful, especially since they've been searching and failing for a while now."

"No, not them. Not anything living."

"We're gonna get the help of a dead person?" This conversation was taking an absurd turn.

"Of course not." He turned to her. "You've heard of the tribes?"

"Who?"

He shook his head. "All right, the quick version." He sat down next to her and looked down at his quilt, which was for some reason a map of Hyrule. "There are six tribes of beings on the mainland of Hyrule. I don't think that they travel much, so you may not have met them before. But here, in Death Mountain — this one, in the top corner — live the Gorons. They're hard to describe, but suffice it to say that they are large and eat rocks. They may also be made of rocks; my education on this has been limited. The Gerudo live over on the other side of Hyrule, in that desert you're sitting on. Their fortress is right by your . . . well, that isn't important. You've met them. As you could imagine, they're very good fighters."

"Yeah, the women. Are the men even better?"

"There's only one man born every one hundred years, their king." He opened his mouth to continue, but Zelda had to stop him.

"How does that work?"

He shook his head, irritated. "I have no idea, Zelda. It just does. The Zora are over by my knee. You've met them, too. Next to their Domain is the Kokiri Forest. Most people say that it is empty — too dangerous to live in, you know — but there is fable that it is filled with magic that kills everyone but this small race of children, called the Kokiri. They are protected by a tree, if memory serves, that decides who can live in the forest and who cannot." Zelda considered commenting on this, but could tell that Daphnes wanted to get to his main point. He added, "The Sheikah are like the Gerudo in many ways in terms of fighting and lifestyle, but they protect the Royal Family of Hyrule. And . . . I'm not sure where they live." He waved his hand over the Market Town. "Maybe they're spread out? They don't like to tell us more than they have to.

"And then there are us. Hylians."

"Right," she said, still not seeing where he was going. Daphnes nodded to himself, deep in thought and seeming to forget Zelda was in the room. Clearly this was a topic he'd given much consideration.

"You've heard of the Spiritual Stones, of course."

Zelda thought back, biting the inside of her cheek to help her remember. She knew she'd heard something about them in school. "Aren't there three?"

"Yes. One belongs to the Gorons, one to the Zora, and one — supposedly — to the Kokiri." He tilted his head to the side, his mouth curving into a smile. "Does any of this sound familiar, or do I need to inspect the classes taught on the islands?"

She shrugged. "I know I learned about it. They open the Sacred Realm, too? Like the Triforce?"

Daphnes shook his head. "No one is quite sure. They are reputed to do something incredible if brought together, but since no one has managed to find the Kokiri's Emerald" — he noticed her blank expression — "one of the Stones — it's a moot point, and many people have given up." He noticed that she was about to ask why and said, "The Forest of the Kokiri is considered one of the most deadly areas in all of Hyrule. Hundreds of men have entered it over the centuries, and none of them have returned. From what we can gather —"

"From peeking in from a safe distance like frightened little children?" she teased. He blushed, and she knew that she was right on the money.

"— it's a labyrinth. There must be dangerous creatures in there as well, because one can hear them howling, and the monsters that appear at night might well live in there in the sunlit hours." He noticed her smile and added with some embarrassment, "Of course, this is pure speculation."

"So what do we do to get the Triforce?"

"We go into the Forest."

Well, that was a reasonable answer, considering how safe it seemed. "And what if we get killed?"

Daphnes smiled at her. "Zelda, there's always a risk of being killed. You can't live without it. Literally." She didn't look convinced, so he put his hand over hers. "The reward would be peace and prosperity for _all _of Hyrule, and that far outweighs the danger."

She sighed and said, "So we get the Triforce and get out? That's it?"

"That is it."

"But how do we find it? You said the Forest is like a maze."

"That's where the Spiritual Stones come in. They are connected to the Triforce, and might provide some as-yet-unseen insight. In all likelihood, we would only need one."

For a second she wondered why he wouldn't bother to get both — wasn't he curious to see what would happen? — but was suddenly hit with a memory. "They're not going to want to part with their Stone, are they?" When Daphnes shook his head, she continued without a complaint. "Who are we taking the Stone from?"

"I think the Zoras are the best bet. They know you. They like you."

She nodded. "So we grab the rock, head off into the Forest, and try not to die?"

"Unless you have a plan that is more likely to succeed."

"Unfortunately, I don't." And she knew better than to argue with a prince, even if it _was _only Daphnes. She climbed to her feet and crossed the room to the wardrobe, which she rummaged in for a few minutes before hauling out a large black bag, which she shouldered. "But I'm thinking of one as fast as I can."


	8. Taking Charge Part II

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

When Sheik heard the voice, his first instinct was to leap into the nearest shadow and disappear. However, the three loaves of bread in his arms would make that difficult. Besides, he was a guard of the Royal Family, or someone he knew was. The Hylians should be more respectful of their needs. He took a bite of the nearest loaf.

Like hunger.

He turned to the two approaching Hylian guards and smiled at them. "How are you today?" he asked the smaller one, hoping that the stripes on his helmet indicated seniority.

The short man stared up at him. "What are you doing with those loaves of bread?"

Sheik smiled. "My friend asked me to pick up some food while she was off guarding the prince Daphnes. She's a very important person in the Sheikan force, you see, and she's on duty all the time. No chance to eat at all!" He knew that he was safe; how could they find fault with that argument?

The man sighed and rolled his eyes. "If I had a rupee for every time I heard something along those lines, do you think I'd be working here?"

Sheik decided that had to be a rhetorical question, and just smiled wider. "Well, sir, I sure do swear it's true!" he said, trying (and failing) to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He glanced around in a movement that he hoped was surreptitious, wondering exactly where Impa had gotten off to and when she was planning on returning. As his gaze returned to the guards, who failed to look impressed by his charming demeanor, he hoped that she would be able to bail him out of this mess.

"Listen," the taller one said, "we don't have the resources to feed every hungry person who staggers into the castle."

"I'm not asking you to feed everyone who's hungry," he replied. "Just me."

The two men shot irritated glances at one another. "It's not that we don't sympathize —" the short one began.

Sheik saw a glimmer of promise and lunged at it. "You _don't_ sympathize!" he cried, lifting one of his bread loaves into the air with the fervor of a revolutionist. "That's just the problem! You don't care about anyone who doesn't hand you a paycheck, anyone who looks different! Do you realize that my comrade and I—" He looked around in vain hope that she had reappeared "— haven't eaten since yesterday morning? That's over twenty hours! Would you make your children starve for that long?"

"Comrade?" The short man nodded to the taller one, and the latter disappeared down the hall. Once they were alone, he stuck his face in Sheik's. "Just . . . gimme one of those loaves. Preferably one without your spit."

He handed it over, his eyes wide. Was this some sort of trick? Or had the guard decided that his day was long and difficult enough without having to arrest some teenager? "Uh, thanks?" Sheik had expected the guard to take a bite out of it immediately and was surprised when he slipped it into his pocket with exaggerated care. "Hey, you're not even going to eat it?"

The man shot Sheik a glare that, while it didn't frighten him — it would take a lot more than a low-rank Hylian to do that — made him pause. "It's for my children," he said. "Now get the hell out of here. That son of a bitch —" he jerked his head in the direction of the other guard "—probably has your friend by now. I'll check the dungeons and send him toward the town proper if I find him."

Sheik nodded and watched the man leave, too startled by the encounter to remind him that the person he was looking for was actually a girl.

* * *

Ganondorf huddled against the stone wall. He was wearing a long black cloak that covered most of his face and was regretting it by the second; it was incredibly hot out even though the sun had already gone down. Traffic in and out of the Fortress was increasing as the day cooled, and he amused himself with trying to figure out where they went. Everyone who passed gave him a wide berth. His eyes flicked up to the guard posts on top of the wall and was met with two suspicious faces. They were trying not to stare at him, but their gaze flickered back to him no fewer than every few seconds.

As their king, he'd give the women points for vigilance, but he was pained by their lack of subtlety. The Sheikah traveled in veils of shadow, and it was rumored that nobody could tell what one was thinking. If these women were any indication, the Gerudo were bumbling and tactless in comparison.

He heard a hiss to his right. Glancing over, he saw a flash of fire, brilliant in the darkness. He could make out a vague outline of a woman and knew who it must be. "Ganondorf! Over here!"

Slipping around the corner, he almost ran into Nabooru. She had a cloak draped over her arm — lucky her, not needing a stifling disguise. She jerked the torch away from him deftly, and he was once again impressed with her ability. A rush of warmth flooded him that had nothing to do with the weather.

Finally, he would be able to learn how to fight like a Gerudo, a real _warrior._

When he'd asked his mothers about returning to the Fortress to learn how to fight, their anger had surprised him. "You will learn nothing from those imbeciles!" Koume had snapped. "Smashing swords against each other . . . snatching pathetic trinkets out of purses . . . and all the while putting yourself in peril!"

Kotake had grabbed a handful of Ganondorf's long hair and drew a brush through it with more ferocity than was necessary. "Spells can do all those things and more, without all the pesky grunting and sweating." The two women had shared a look and burst into cackling, leaving their son to stare from one to the other in confusion. Kotake had looked down at him and continued brushing, a little calmer now. "The Gerudo are superstitious, Ganondorf. They don't believe in all the wonderful things magic can do. But you know better. If you stay with us, train with us, then you'll be able to show them what a gift from the goddesses magic is and revolutionize their society."

He'd said, "And bring you back with me."

They'd smiled at each other, and then at him. "Of course, dear."

Ganondorf knew that he could do just as much damage with a spell — rend flesh, burn buildings and people, make objects levitate out of shops and houses into his arms — as he could with a scimitar or whip. And, of course, magic could create force fields and do plenty of good. But at the same time, there was something visceral and sacred about learning the same fighting techniques that all the Gerudo had learned for centuries. It was like absorbing their power and knowledge into his veins.

He turned his eager gaze on Nabooru, who smirked and stepped away. "What do we get to do first?" he asked. "Sparring? Agility tests? Hunting?"

At the last her eyes lit up. "I was just trying to figure out a good way to test your skills," she said, her smirk dimpling and spreading into a full-on grin. "And hunting sounds like just the thing."

"Great," he said.

"Good." She watched him, an almost expectant expression on her face, but as he had no idea what it was she wanted, he began to walk in the general direction of home. There were many miles between his humble little shack and the Fortress, so surely there would be something to fight. She let him get rather far ahead of her, loping behind him with her hands in her pockets and her eyes on the sky. Ganondorf began to feel resentful; why would she volunteer to train him and then neglect him? He was prepared to say something when her fingers curled around the base of his head, forcing him to an abrupt halt. "Not that way. Turn left here."

He did as she ordered, rubbing the spot where her fingers had been.

"Oh, come on. If you're such a baby about pain that you'll cringe and moan about a little pressure, there's nothing I can do for you," she snapped. He could tell that she didn't mean it, though, as her expression was slightly more amused than irritated. So he swallowed his retort and let his fingers fall from his neck. She clicked her tongue, impressed. "Ganondorf?" she called when she noticed that he had picked up his pace considerably — in fact, he was almost running. As she broke into a sprint, she realized that he was about to overshoot their destination. If he wasn't careful, he might just run into something he wasn't prepared for. "Ganondorf! _Stop!"_

Nabooru had expected him to come to a halt immediately, turn sheepishly back to her and apologize for his behavior. He might be their future ruler, but he was still a stupid kid who hadn't learned a thing from his old witch-hag mothers. However, to her bewilderment he sped up, his feet kicking sheets of white sand into the sky, where they fell on her in a glittering shower. It would have been beautiful, and his rebellion a pleasant surprise, if she'd had time to notice such things.

Her feet skimmed across a fat dirt road that was almost entirely covered by blown sand. This had been where she'd intended to stop, to allow Ganondorf to observe the many black-market traders from Ryia — the neighboring country — that made their way into Hyrule at night. If time had allowed, she would have taught him how to pick their pockets or trick them out of their most valuable items. This was "hunting" as the Gerudo figured it. And it wasn't too surprising, was it, for a people surrounded by very few creatures of their own to prey upon fellow humans?

But her wayward student was almost across the trade route and headed into the deep wilderness of the desert, where she couldn't guarantee his safety. And the man was pulling away from her with an ease that was upsetting. _"Your Majesty!_" she shouted, using a final burst of speed to halve the amount of sand between the two of them.

He froze. His eyes wide, he stared at where she had staggered to a halt, her hands on her knees. He was tempted to collapse from exhaustion, but he managed to keep himself upright. "What did you say?"

Between huge gulps of air, she replied, "Well, you're the king, aren't you? Isn't that what you call royalty?"

He remembered his mothers coaching him on his response. _Deny it. There will only be trouble if people know who you are. It's safer for us if you lie. It's safer for _you_ if you lie. Just say, "I'm sorry, but I don't think you have the right person." It's for the best. _"I'm sorry, I don't think you have the right person."

"Bullshit. Who else would you be?"

"Well . . ." His mothers, shortsighted despite their cleverness, hadn't bothered to create an alternate identity for him. "I could be a mutt."

"But you're not." Having regained her breath in a matter of moments, she stood and smiled at him with her hands on her hips. When he sighed and his shoulders drooped, she gave a triumphant laugh and pulled him away from the edge of the road. "Rule number one, don't go over there. It's not safe."

"You're giving me orders?"

"Why wouldn't I, if you aren't the king? You're still my student, anyway, and if I say not to go past this road, you won't. Got it?"

Ganondorf cursed himself for his stupidity. "Got it," he said. "Is that all? I mean, I didn't mean to tire you out. . . ." As a matter of fact he had, and had hoped that by her exhaustion she had learned that he wasn't just a weakling in need of bulking up. He was a fighter, though his skills needed refining. Besides, he was her king, and he deserved some measure of respect.

She put her hands on the small of her back and cracked it. "Nah, I'm good. Say, what if we went back to your homestead — I _assume_ you have some sort of training area that we won't get mobbed by Gerudo for using — and I'll see exactly what you're capable of."

"Um . . . well, okay." He was surprised. To be honest, he was flabbergasted. He'd spent many hours wondering what it would be like when he took control of the Gerudo Fortress. He'd expected adoration, admiration. He did not expect . . . this.

As they were walking, Nabooru said, "So why haven't you come home? You must know that we've been looking for you. And seriously, we could use a leader. Those Hylians are sucking us dry."

"I don't know. I just know that it's not time."

She smirked. "Your mothers tell you that?"

"Yeah, so? I always assumed it was part of some prophecy. They're good with those."

"You'd never wondered if maybe they had selfish reasons for keeping you there? I mean, not to insult your dear mommies, but we kicked them out for a reason."

He laughed. "Actually, _you_ didn't do anything. You weren't born yet."

"That's irrelevant. Answer the question."

His brow furrowed. He had never wondered, and now that the idea occurred to him, he couldn't understand why it had never crossed his mind before. Why exactly couldn't he return to the Gerudo? He didn't have any more magic to learn — or at least nothing that Koume and Kotake were willing to teach him; his lessons had ended last year. He was a man by Hyrulian standards, and he wasn't any less likely to convince the Gerudo that his mothers were safe than he would be in the years to come. Besides, he realized with a pang as he looked at Nabooru, he was starved for company.

Suddenly the idea of being kept away one more day was unbearable.

As this occurred to him, they came upon his home. Nabooru couldn't see it and stuttered to a halt, looking around with wide eyes. "I don't know why . . ." she murmured, "but for some reason I feel like I should head home now. Maybe we could train some other time?"

Ah, the force field. It was a work of genius, he had to admit. He took her thin wrist in his hand and pulled her along. "Don't worry, you'll be fine," he muttered as she tried to writhe out of his grip. "I can't go, I have to leave," she said in increasing desperation. The field was longer than Ganondorf had expected: twenty feet thick, more or less. Near the end Nabooru's thrashing grew so frenetic that her nails raked long red gashes along his arms and face; she almost clawed his eyes out.

Once they were through she went limp, with only one hand clenched on his shoulder for support. After a few minutes she stood, still looking uncomfortable and itchy to leave, but without the fervor of previously. Trying to shake off her embarrassment, she gestured back at the patch of sand. "So. What was that about?"

He shrugged. "My family doesn't like people to intrude. You'll get used to it."

"I don't really wanna get used to it," she snapped. "I still feel like I should run as fast as humanly possible away from here." Her gaze was sharp and direct. "Is that the spell, or are my instincts just really good?"

He flinched. He didn't want to lie to her, but . . . "Probably a little of both."

"We'll just get this over with, then?"

"Wait!" he said, his chest tightening. "Does this mean you won't train me anymore?"

"Not here I won't," she replied. Her expression was fierce, but her mouth quirked up for half a second. "If you want any more training, you'll have to come to the fortress. And I think you'll have a lot of explaining to do."

Just the thought of making the decision to leave his mothers made him weak, but he focused instead on the training he'd get among his own people. "I'll let you know what I decide."

She looked at him, baffled. "Is it really that hard a decision to make?" When he just stared at her, his eyes surprisingly hard, she shrugged and looked away. "All right, then," she said. "So I'll see you whenever you decide to come back." She started to leave, and he could see her body relax as the spell took hold of her again and edged her away from his home.

Ganondorf let himself relax a bit, too. If Nabooru left without any more interference, perhaps his mothers wouldn't take offense at her intrusion. She'd be able to get home safe. He was just about to say a quick prayer to the goddesses for their mercy when she turned around.

"You're our king," she said. Like his skin was shrinking, he felt his mothers' magic tighten around them, the air pregnant with their power. "I'm not going to let you go."

He didn't respond; he focused his energy instead on communicating with his mothers. _Please don't hurt her. Please let her go. I'll never see her again if you just let her leave._

With an exasperated sigh, she moved to slip back through the enchantments. She collapsed on her first step with an oath, cupping one foot in her hands. "Shit," she muttered, pulling a swath of fabric off her weapons belt and wiping at the injury with it. "I'll lose so much training because of this stupid cut."

A flash of light illuminated the desert. Ganondorf dove for her and shoved her out of the way as a streak of electricity tore through the sky towards them. Sand exploded into the air and swirled to a rest around them. He squeezed his eyes shut and held Nabooru closer, protecting her as much as he could. Cool water pounded at their backs, hitting the ground and evaporating into mist.

Nabooru sat up. "Rain," she whispered, as though it were a myth that she'd heard of, but never seen. In fact, that was probably the case. She turned to him, awed. "Is this magic?" As though to answer her question, another bolt of lightning shot towards them. It missed, but the force of the blast flattened them to the sand. Nabooru landed stomach-down on top of Ganondorf, and the dagger he held unsheathed at his waist dug into both of them. Before another strike could do further damage, he hauled her to her feet and yanked her through the barrier, past the sphere of his mothers' influence. Inside, the storm raged, unable to get at them through the protective enchantments. It was beautiful.

A strangled hiss drew his attention away from from the spectacle. Nabooru had curled herself into a ball, her face dripping sweat and rainwater. The dagger had hurt Ganondorf, slicing through his hip to the bone, but he had been lucky; the cut was deep, but narrow, and a meager diet meant that his hipbones were more prominent than most. As a consequence, there just wasn't much flesh for the knife to cut. His sparring partner was another story. As he pried her arms away from her stomach, he saw that the blade had slid into the narrow gap between her ribs. The damage was impossible to assess, but there was a lot of blood.

He lifted her into his arms as gingerly as possible, ignoring her weak protests that she was fine, that she could still kick his ass without trying. The fortress had never seemed so far away, not even when he was a child and couldn't imagine a day when he'd be able to be reunited with his family.

Still, he was young, strong, and desperate, and they managed to make it to the gate with minimal incident. His hands full, he kicked at the door until the guards were roused. When they recognized the unconscious bloody girl in his arms, there was a flurry of movement and three women rushed outside. Two of them acted with businesslike haste and calm, all but ignoring Ganondorf. One of them, however, couldn't stop staring at him. She tried to usher him inside, but once he saw her securely transferred into their possession, he turned and left. He was sure they could heal her. But that didn't make him any less angry at Koume and Kotake.

As he reached home, he slowed until his movements were almost silent, listening to his mothers whispers. Unable to discern their words, he threw the door open and stood over the cowering old women. Kotake said, "Ganondorf, why did you bring a Gerudo to our home? Are you trying to kill us?"

The genuine fear in their voices weakened his resolve, but a glance down at his red-soaked chest and arms gave him strength. It wouldn't be easy to say goodbye to the only companionship he'd ever known, but now he saw that it was their fault that he'd never had any other friends. "Why can't I go back?" he asked coolly.

They had expected him to shout, rage, maybe even attack them. His relative calm filled them with hope. "Your power isn't yet developed enough!" Kotake cried.

"You're too young!"

"You don't have the authority to rule the way you should!"

He listened to their fervent explanations in silence. When they were done, he said, "And when were you going to teach me the necessary skills?"

"Ah . . ." The sisters faltered, hoping the other would answer that question. The truth was that they hadn't planned on teaching him how to rule. It had always gone without saying that when their "son" took power, Koume and Kotake would be in charge.

When five minutes had passed without a word, Ganondorf took Koume by the shoulders, kissed her forehead, and moved on to Kotake. "You two betrayed the Gerudo with your magic," he said, "whether you realize it or not. I don't think that my will is enough to bring you two back into the fortress, but I will do what I can to help you. I cannot, however, allow you to hurt my people. Any more attacks and you will be harshly punished." With that he was gone.

Koume sank onto the ground, surprised at how hurt his sudden disappearance left her. "What do we do now?" she asked, her voice a weak croak.

Kotake didn't seem to be suffering from any sort of sentiment. She bustled around in the back, preparing her huge cauldron for some sort of spell. "We do what we were planning. Ganondorf is not ready for power, but perhaps we can use this to our advantage." She smiled, her teeth warped and rotted. "Besides, there's always the girl."

"What would we want with her?" Koume asked, climbing to her feet and standing over her sister's work.

"She's stubborn, powerful, but not particularly intelligent. He likes her well enough. If we can harness those affections, make them stronger, and use her naturally pliable mind . . . we might be able to fix him."

* * *

Ganondorf hurried across the sand, not stopping to rest until he reached the Gerudo Fortress. He banged on the gate. A guard looked over the top and narrowed her eyes at him. The shifts must have changed, because she wasn't one of the ones to spot him with Nabooru; however, knowing about what happened had made her suspicious. "Yeah?" she asked before catching herself. She straightened up and said, "State your name and business. Step away from the gate." She held up a crossbow and a quiver of arrows. "Move any closer or take out any weapons and I will shoot."

"My name is Ganondorf," he said, suddenly nervous. It was ridiculous to be, of course, but he was beginning to wonder if maybe his mothers were right. Had he acted rashly? "I would like — I _demand_ — to take my rightful place as ruler."

Her eyes widened. "Th-that's quite a claim," she said, trying to keep her expression impassive. "Wait here." She disappeared over the wall, and he heard shouts, the name _Aveni. _His heart felt like it had squeezed into a tiny ball. According to his mothers, Aveni was the woman who'd given birth to him. _"Ganondorf, dear, you're lucky you never had to meet her. That bitch wouldn't have known what to do with a king, and she clearly didn't want to find out. We took you off her hands as a favor. It's best this way; you don't have to deal with her, and she doesn't have to deal with you."_

He couldn't trust anything they said. He knew that. Still, it was hard to shake years of unconditional trust, and when he heard the doors creak and squeal the strain, he fought a wave of betrayal and anger so powerful it frightened him. He stepped back, both to avoid the opening gate and to distance himself from this woman that for whatever reasons had never been introduced into his life. He prepared himself for what he'd say; "_Aveni, I've come to take back my people." "So you're the one who abandoned me." "Hi, mom."_

All words — the bitter and piercing, the desperate and lonely, every one amounting to the same thing: _I miss you and I want to come home_ — died as soon as he saw her. She had his eyes, down to the flecks of yellow in the iris, to the ridiculous length of the lashes. At this moment, he was sure that they had the same guarded expression. There would be no question that he was their king, if there ever had been.

The only question left was whether they'd take him back.

* * *

Ganondorf had planned on being impassive, impressive, and overall very kinglike. He'd thought he would be in control of his return. He'd expected his subjects — and most of all his mother — to be overwhelmed with emotion, flustered. That was not even close to what actually happened.

What _did_ happen was that Aveni looked him up and down, nodded, and turned away. "Come with me," she said, and he followed her as meekly as if she was the king. She brought him to a small room filled with cots, and with a flick of her wrist ordered him to sit down on one of them. A young woman appeared from the corner and stood over him, her expression similar to his mother's, but somehow even colder. A quick "Don't move. I'm a healer" was all the warning he got before she began to examine him, her deft fingers sliding across his cheeks, arms, chest, stomach. At one point she cupped a hand behind his neck and bent him forward, running the fingers of her free hand down his spine and pinching the muscles to either side of it. It was incredibly intimate, but somehow the least sexy thing he'd ever experienced. Part of it may have been the fact that his mother was only three feet away, watching with a stony expression.

Finally the woman stopped, leaving Ganondorf and stepping up to his mother. "There's no sign of the witches on him," she said. "He's a healthy young man."

She narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. "He's skinny. Hasn't been taught to fight."

"Not by physical methods, no," the healer agreed. "I assume that's what you were getting at."

"Ganondorf." He looked up at her, strands of red hair dangling in his face. Her expression softened when their eyes met. "Have you been taught magic?"

"A bit." Her eyes hardened and he added, "But not much. They didn't want me to learn more than . . . than I should."

"Of course not," she murmured. "Might become more powerful than them. They couldn't have that." Shooing the healer away, she sat down on the floor next to his cot, stretching her legs out with a sigh. "This wasn't what you expected when you got back," she said without looking at him.

He considered lying, saying something positive about Gerudo diligence that would make him look wise and dignified. But his first order as king couldn't be to lie to his own mother. No matter what kind of mother she was. "No," he admitted. "It wasn't."

"We can't be too careful. It was . . . horrible when they stole you. We knew you were nearby, that they could only run so far in their old age, but with all the enchantments —" She cut herself off with a strangled noise. The minutes stretched out before she spoke again. "It was frustrating. And we had to make sure you weren't some sort of trap."

"I understand." And he did. That small, muffled sound said everything that she wasn't allowed to. He was proud of her for keeping herself impartial, and knew that he needed to follow her example.

Presently she stood. "I have something for you," she said, her fingers fumbling slightly as she reached into her bag. "I had been holding onto it when I was summoned, and I just thought . . . thought that you would need it." She pulled out a crown and handed it to him. "It's yours."

He placed it on his head cautiously, knowing that whenever he wore it, the eyes of the Gerudo were on him.

_That's a little scary, don't you think? _The voice belonged to his mothers, and to the small boy inside him that didn't really want to be a king, let alone the king of a people who were starving and loathed universally. He knew that he would have to squash that voice, and he did his best, focusing instead on the beauty of the circlet he now wore. It wasn't so much a crown as a long metal chain. In the center of it was a silver design, and in the middle of that was an orange stone.

"Ganondorf," Aveni said, "you're young. But you can do this." It was the closest she would get to warmth, and he took comfort from it.

"I know," he replied, since that was what she'd want to hear. "I will."

* * *

Dimitri's feet hit the sandy ocean floor. He was not aware of anything. Not of the water, or of the tight feeling in his lungs, or even if he was alive or not. His eyes were closed, and he huddled in a little corner of his mind. He could hear the Dark Triforce, but couldn't make out the words.

Suddenly, the little black mark on his hand glowed a brilliant white, illuminating the dark water all around him. His eyes flew open, and they glowed with the same light.

The Dark Triforce pulled at his legs, bending them to push off the sand and send him flying through the water, straight up. He broke the surface and soared into the air, high enough to see above the waves in any direction. Dimitri didn't know what the Dark Triforce was looking for, but he was perfectly willing to let him drive for now. His mind was exhausted, even as his body dove back into the water and began swimming with no sign of tiring. He didn't know where they were going. He didn't care.

He almost roused himself as the familiar shape of the rowboat came back into view; there was no way this was going to end well. As his body hauled itself over the side, the pudgy fisherman watched with eyes that were first concerned, then horrified. "You —" he began, but whatever Demi was, he didn't hear. His hands lashed out with a speed that was inhuman and latched around his neck.

_Wait . . . You shouldn't do this, _he said blearily, poking his head out of the safety of his corner. _Leave him alone._

His hands didn't slacken, even as the man's ruddy face became purple and swollen. Dimitri considered trying to take control, but decided it wouldn't be possible. He was destined to become the thing he feared, right? Besides, the man was probably dead anyway. And it was so much more comfortable to sleep. . . . He'd almost drowned, after all, and deserved a break.

Part of him knew that this was coward's logic. That allowing the Dark Triforce to do this was crossing a line. That instead of being a somewhat smug and obnoxious, but mostly nice guy, he'd become a despicable human being for whom death was too kind.

At that moment, he didn't particularly care.


	9. Confusion

**CHAPTER 5**

"Do you think we should go find Impa and Sheik? They could help." She'd left a hastily-scrawled note wedged in the crack between the windowsill and the inside wall. Impa was always saying that Sheikah could see better (fight better, drink better; there was nothing they couldn't do, according to Impa) than other Hyrulians, so she had to hope that they could live up to their hype and spot the note before one of Daphnes' guards did. He hadn't bothered to leave a note, which Zelda thought was reckless. "They're going to search for us," she'd told him. "And they'll blame _me_." To that he had said, "I will explain things to them" with a bright, cocky smile, shrugging off her continued complaints.

True to form, Daphnes gestured for her to be quiet. "It is imperative that we get out of here without being seen. Our search for the Triforce will not be well-received."

"I don't think my kidnapping you will go over much better." Once again, though, he shushed her, his gray eyes narrowing as he studied the castle entrance from their hiding place in a nearby closet with a cracked door. Pressing his nose up against the splintered wood, he whispered, "I suppose if we launched something at the guards, that might knock one of them unconscious, allowing us to slip out. . . ."

His wannabe-Sheikah attitude was going to get someone killed. With a sigh, she shoved the door open, pushing him back into the gloom and picking up a bucket and rag before striding up to the guards. She had a dark blue bandanna tied around her head, hiding her platinum hair and part of her forehead. Unless the guards had memorized the structure of her lower face, they would only see a maid in a thin cotton shift borrowed from the aforementioned closet, up particularly early to start her chores. "How's the mornin' gone?" she asked cheerfully, doing her best to exaggerate her Piquo accent; there were enough servants from the islands that she blended in well enough.

One of the guards chuckled, shifting under the heavy mail he wore. "You call this mornin'?" he asked, jerking his chin at the sky, which had just the faintest hint of lightening at the horizon. "The Stalchildren haven't even gone to bed yet."

Zelda shrugged, wrinkling her nose in an attempt to simultaneously convey cuteness and distort her features so it'd be harder to recognize her. "Well, I consider the day's started once someone asks me to move somethin' heavy from one place to another." She paused, looking the two men up and down. "Any chance you could help me?"

They glanced at each other. "We're not supposed to leave our posts," the first one said, though there was a hint of flirtatiousness in his tone. "We could get in a lotta trouble."

"They're just down the stairs there," she said, leaning forward and pointing; she knew full well that they weren't watching her finger, and as their gazes were diverted, she winked in the direction of where Daphnes was crouched. Turning her attention back to the men, she added, "Besides, I can watch the door. If any Stalchildren try to storm the castle, I'll ward them off with my bucket." She held it up, grinning.

The guards' laughed appreciatively, then headed off in the direction she'd pointed them in. Once they were out of sight, she waved frantically to where her friend and prince was cowering. "The other guards are pretty well-spaced out," she said once they were clear, remembering from her last time sneaking out. "We shouldn't have much trouble dodging them. By the way, Daph, you really need to improve the security here . . . what?"

Daphnes was staring at her, his expression a mixture of awe and fear. "You tricked my guards." She nodded. "You pretended to be a maid."

"I practically _am_ a maid," she said with a laugh. "It wasn't a hard role to play."

He nodded to that, and they settled into their hiding place for the next hour or two: a large bush across from the drawbridge. After a few minutes, she felt his gaze again. "_What?_" she hissed.

"I never want to make you mad, do I?" He seemed to be looking through and past her, his eyes fixed on some point in an unforeseeable future. "You're . . . you're a_goddess_."

She glowered at him. "Don't say things like that!" she said. "You're just begging for the goddesses' revenge." She settled back against the wall that the bush was snuggled up against, wincing as a branch dug into her back. "At least this dirt will make you less recognizable. Might want to smear some more of it on you." To show him, she grabbed a handful of the dust-dry soil and rubbed it into his hair, smoothing the residue left on her palms across his cheeks. When he spluttered and tried to worm away, she dug beneath the bush's roots and unearthed a few fingers-full of mud and splattered it on his nose. "Don't make the bush shake, Your Highness," she said. "We'll have you looking like an urchin in no time."

* * *

"In." The man who'd arrested Impa shoved her toward the first cell they came upon. "Wait here," he said brusquely. He had found her sitting on the floor of the kitchen, nibbling on an apple and hoping that Sheik would return from his pantry raid before the cooks and other kitchen workers woke up for the day. Before she could come up with an excuse, he had hauled her down to the dungeon to await whatever punishment the king would dole out to her.

There were three men in the cell already, sprawled along the floor and snoring. Each was twice her size and none of them looked friendly. She balked, digging her heels into the floor. "Aren't these separated by gender or something?" she asked. She hated to show weakness like this, but if they woke up and she was still there, she might be in trouble.

The guard shook his head. "These other ones are for higher-priority captives. Rapists, murderers. These men are just thieves." With an inward sigh, she allowed herself to be ushered into the cell, taking a seat in the corner farthest from where the men were sleeping. Luckily, the guard hadn't had the presence of mind to disarm her, perhaps because she was female. She rested a hand on her thigh, where a dagger was within easy reach. Though she didn't dare pull it out with the guard in the room, it made her feel better just to touch it through her pants.

One of the men rolled over in his sleep. Her breath whistling softly through her teeth, she leapt to her feet before realizing that he wasn't going after her.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Nabooru lifted her head up off her pillow. She sat up onto her elbows, looking around with confusion.

_Whap_. A hand hit her square in the chest, shoving her back down again. The long pointed nose of the Healer looked down at her. It took a moment for Nabooru to focus on her brown eyes, which were dark with irritation. "Lay down. You have to rest," she said, returning to what had woken Nabooru up in the first place: removing the bandages around her foot and swabbing at the area with a wet cloth that smelled bitter and cloying.

Nabooru settled back down, glancing up at the Healer warily. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Unconscious? Five days."

"_What?_" That was an impossibly long time, especially when she'd been training to join the Advanced class of archers; she'd been trapped in Intermediate for almost two years because she'd broken something in her shoulder, and just when that went away. . . . This was going to take her forever to make up. _Krysu is going to beat me,_she despaired. She managed to get herself halfway to a sitting position before the pain in her stomach overtook her and she collapsed back again.

"That's why I told you to lay down," the Healer said, finishing up on Nabooru's foot and pulling back the blankets so she could get at her stomach. The bandages had a slight yellow tint over where she'd been cut, and Nabooru cringed. That couldn't bode well. "It's just the Leever juice," the Healer told her. "It'll smell and stain your skin yellow, but as a disinfectant it can't be beat. There's a little honeymilk to soothe the pain, too."

It wasn't working very well. "Oh. Good. Not that I was worried, but that means I'll be able to get back out there and fight again soon."

"You will never hear me question your courage, Nabooru." With a small smile, she pulled the bandage away, making Nabooru hiss in pain as the dried blood and Leever juice stuck the fabric to the ragged edges of the cut. "It's not as bad as it could be," she said, "and you should gain eighty percent of your torso motility in only three months."

"_Months?_ You sure you don't mean weeks? Days? Minutes, maybe?"

The Healer glared at her. "I said months, and I meant months. And if you do something dumb before it's fully healed, you could more than double that time, so just stay there." As she slathered more Leever juice on Nabooru's ribs, the door to the chamber opened and Ganondorf poked his head in.

The Healer sighed. "You're back again? Listen, the girl is not dead —" Suddenly remembering who she was talking to, the woman dropped her eyes to the floor. "It's an honor to have you here, Your Highness."

"Thank you," he replied coolly, sitting down on the other side of Nabooru's cot and watching as the Healer continued her work. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

She bit her lip to contain a yelp as some of the juice ran down her ribcage and deep into the cut. She didn't want to show weakness in front of her king. "Great! I just want to get _out_ of here, you know?"

"You're not going anywhere," the Healer warned yet again. She left the room and returned a minute later with a glass of water. "Drink this."

"I don't need that. Give —" Before she could continue, the Healer had clamped one strong hand under her chin, slipped two fingers into her mouth to keep it open (almost making Nabooru gag with the taste of Leever juice mixed with honeymilk), and dumped the water down her throat before she could react. Once she'd made sure that Nabooru wasn't going to cough any of it back up, she turned her heel and went off to tend some of the other patients.

Ganondorf watched her go. "She's good," he said appreciatively.

Nabooru rubbed her throat, clearing it to try and get the taste out of her mouth. "You can say that again. Though I think there was something weird on her fingers. I feel . . ." Covering her mouth, she bent over double, ignoring the agony that this sent through her newly-wrapped stomach. She didn't retch, though. It felt like something was filling her throat, like the water that she'd been forced to drink had frozen mid-swallow and was lodged there, growing larger and colder as every second passed.

When she began making strangled noises, Ganondorf pushed her back against the headboard, watching helplessly as she clawed at her throat. Just when her face began to turn purple, she felt the pain cease. Her throat grew warmer and more open as the ice melted, but just when she thought this meant she was going to be okay, her skin began to burn. Her face, her neck, chest, hands, stomach. . . . It was like an unbearable sunburn that got worse instead of better.

She managed to choke out the words, "I'm on fire!" before the heat overwhelmed her and she fell unconscious.

Ganondorf tried to take her hand and had to pull away from the heat of it; it was like the hilt of a scimitar that had been left in the sun. He shouted for the Healer and tried to pry Nabooru's eyes open, not sure what that would do to help but desperate to see them.

Her pupils were changing, dilating and contracting with increasing rapidity. The irises weren't their usual yellow. Instead, the right eye was red; the left, blue. She began crying, the tears from the right eye leaving burning red welts in their wake, while those from the left froze in their tracks.

The Healer rushed in as Nabooru's breathing weakened. She took only a few seconds to size up the situation and kicked Ganondorf out. He was too horrified to even begin arguing with her, knowing that his meager spells and healing knowledge would do nothing in the face of whatever gripped his trainer.

He made it to his bedroom before collapsing against the wall, shaking. There was rock over him, under him, around him . . . suddenly all that weight was suffocating. His skin was tingling like it did when Koume and Kotake used to work their spells, only stronger. It was _crawling_, simultaneously burning and chilled.

That was when it clicked.

He'd felt his mothers' magic before, though never in such close proximity. He knew that they preferred different elements. Koume loved fire, and Kotake used ice in almost all of her spells. The eyes, the tears . . . this had their stink all over it.

_"Any more attacks and you will be harshly punished."_

What was he going to do now?

* * *

"Daphnes, you can't honestly expect us to just waltz in there and demand the Zora's sacred stone — not to mention their engagement rock!" Over the course of their journey from the market to the Zora's Domain, Zelda had come up with a whole host of new things to complain about. It was getting annoying, mostly because she raised a lot of good points. Points that, as a future king of the Hylians, Daphnes should have thought of prior to leaving on this suicide journey.

Sometimes he wondered if he was an idiot who was only pretending at intelligence. "We are going to appeal to the prince, who you said was fond of you, and then see if his influence will be enough to help us get the stone from his father."

She raised her eyebrows. "And if not?"

_We'll steal it. _"We shall devise another method," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His nerves were fraying, and they needed to get this over with before he snapped.

She seemed to realize that something was wrong. "Okay," she said, as soothingly as she was capable. "We'll figure it out."

As it turned out, they never made it to the king. It only took three sentences before Prince Zora shook his head. His expression was kind, but firm. "There is no way in which my father will give up the Sapphire. I'm sorry, Zelda, but it's too important to give even to the closest of friends." Daphnes had heard enough noble-speak to hear the second, unspoken half of that sentence: _Let alone some girl I've known for less than a week._

Daphnes stepped forward. He had managed to clean himself up so he didn't look filthy, but he hadn't found any way to change out of his servant's garb; it made him feel rather shabby, even next to this naked prince. "But if we could explain —"

"Explain all you want. I am afraid that it will not be possible." Still, he couldn't dismiss one of his most powerful allies, so he listened with interest as Daphnes explained his theory of how to find the Triforce. Once he had finished, Zora's eyes were alight. "It is utter insanity, of course," he said, "but now that I think of it, there is something to this idea. . . . And you believe that you would be able to survive the Kokiri Forest?"

"We would have a distinct physical advantage to others. The men who have gone into the very entrance say that there is hardly any water to be found, and the rocks are coated in moss that might be poisonous." Daphnes knew that Zora would pick up on his noble-speak, as well: _Zoras and Gorons would be more likely to die if they tried. And since I'm the king of the Hylians, I'm the only choice you have._

Unless, of course, Zora chose to have him and Zelda arrested. There was always that option.

"I'm afraid that I do not have the authority to help you," Zora said. And Daphnes believed him; if there was a way that the young prince could give them the stone without facing the wrath of the king, he would, for curiosity if nothing else. But it wasn't a risk he was willing to take. "I — Zelda, are you all right?"

Zelda had gone white, her eyes closed and her body stiff and unresponsive to Daphnes' hand on her shoulder, or Zora's fingers brushing against hers. They exchanged worried glances, but could do no more before her eyes opened.

For a second Daphnes thought he had lost his sight. He thought, _It's not black at all. Everything turns white when you're blind. And a little blue . . ._

Once his eyes had adjusted, he realized that the brilliant light was coming from Zelda's eyes. The entire ball was a white-blue — she had no iris, no pupil, nothing but light. Daphnes staggered out of the way, torn between amazement and a horror that left him paralyzed and helpless.

"Her _hand_ . . ." Prince Zora choked, then let out a scream of pain. The hand whose fingers he'd been touching had tightened into a fist, crushing Zora's index and middle fingers in its grip. It was glowing the same blue color, only concentrated into a triangle with one-inch sides.

"Zelda!" Daphnes shouted. He fell to his knees next to Zora, trying to pull his hand free. "STOP IT!"

As though his words had been a command, the light drained out of the room. Her hand loosened, letting the Zora free to cradle his hand against his chest. Inspecting the fingers, Daphnes was relieved to find that they weren't broken.

"W-what happened?" she asked. Her eyes had gone back to normal, but she looked dazed. "Prince Zora, are you okay?"

He nodded. Daphnes had been worried that he would hate them for this, run them out of the Domain, but his expression was one of awe. _Zel, when I said you were a goddess, I was _joking, he thought weakly. "Your eyes were glowing," he whispered. "And your hand."

Zelda looked down at the appendage in question, her head light and fuzzy. She stared at the little golden mark etched into the back of her hand and touched it gently, feeling its warmth. One word popped into her head, completely unbidden: _Wisdom_. Remembering Dimitri, and the triangle on his hand, Zelda ran her fingers over the mark. The second she did, it disappeared.

_His eyes had changed color, and he'd acted different. Weird. Scary. _Zelda had refused to let herself think about Demi. Or the thing that he'd called the Dark Triforce. Or anything about her home. But now she dwelled on it.

When he had reached his hand forward to take hers, she'd seen the black triangle etched into his skin. So he'd had the triangle, and she had the triangle. Different colors, but same general shape and eye change. And that meant that she would end up like him.

But it had disappeared. So it had left her . . . right? And if it hadn't, what had happened? Had it decided she was unworthy? Or . . . or . . . What was she thinking? She didn't know what had happened to Demi. For all she knew, he had just become a jerk and that triangle had meant nothing.

_You know better than that, Zelda. You know that this is true._

Prince Zora held her by the shoulders gently. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head to clear it. "Yeah," she replied. "I think."

And she was. Her mind was still not quite clear, and she didn't feel entirely steady on her feet, but other than that, she seemed perfectly normal. The only problem she could think of was that there was a voice in her head that wasn't hers. And it had told her that Demi was controlled by this Dark Triforce.

She turned turned Daphnes, hoping that he could help her make sense of this stranger in her mind, the one that was gone as soon as she had shaken her head. But in all the confusion, he had disappeared.

* * *

Danile was known around Kakariko Village as the cuccoo girl. She was quiet, gentle, and amazing with the birds that populated their small town. She would take care of the cuccoos for a fee, raise them, breed them, and give the families whatever eggs and — once the birds died — meat that was produced.

She knelt down, checking the tag around a dead cuccoo's leg. It was green. "The Farlinsons are going to have a decent meal tonight," she said, picking the white bird up by its tagged leg and making her way across the keep. When she reached the gate, she reached forward with one boot and lifted the latch that was low enough to maneuver with her foot. Danile only had one arm. She was just lucky the birds were too stupid to open the latch by themselves. She'd only had them escape once, and that was an accident.

Suddenly her vision went white. At the corners of the field of light were hints of bright green.

_Courage, Danile._ She felt a hand press against her stomach, the way she'd seen women touch the bulging bellies of pregnant ladies, and a bolt of warmth shot through her. The voice, vaguely female and ageless, said, _Courage_, yet again.

When the light faded, she was standing at the gate, which had swung open. Cuccoos were racing everywhere, and the one that had been in her hand was shaking with the trembling that was coursing through her arm. She looked around; it was almost sunset, and the town was deserted as everyone prepared for dinner and relaxed from a long day of work. No one had seen her breakdown, but they were now emerging at the clucking of cuccoos. "What happened, Danile?" her neighbor, Rex, called.

"I tripped," she shouted back, still trying to think clearly after what had happened. She turned back to her house and yelled, "BRIN! I NEED YOU!"

Her husband came sprinting outside. He ignored the cuccoos that were being chased down by various families who had investments in the birds. "Danile, are you okay?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she said, her voice higher than usual. That was when she noticed the triangle glowing yellow on her hand. Brin held his hand out and showed her his fist, where an identical one glimmered among wiry strands of black hair.

Before either of them could speak, both triangles disappeared.


	10. Confusion Part II

"Nabooru!"

She lifted her head off the pillow and looked around for the noise. She yelped and leapt back, a movement that would have caused her unspeakable pain only a few days ago but left her perfectly fine now.

On the end of the bed, their faces inches from hers, were her friends, Krysu, Jessa, Tami, and Amalyse.

"What are you guys _doing _here?" Nabooru demanded, settling back down onto the bed and glaring at them. They just laughed, unaware of how damaging their little joke would have been when she was first hospitalized.

"We're here to visit you. Be supportive, et cetera," Jessa explained. "And to give you this." She dropped a package in her lap. Nabooru grunted at the sudden weight, barely catching it before it slid off the sheets and onto the floor.

Inside the thin parchment were two beautiful scimitars. The hilt of one was lined with sapphires and diamonds, while the other was covered in rubies and topaz stones. "How on earth did you find these?" she asked, running a thumb down the steel blade of the sapphire one. "Is there some really angry Ryian merchant who'll be out for your blood?"

Tami shrugged, admiring the gold hilt of the ruby sword. "It's the weirdest thing. We didn't steal these."

Her forehead wrinkled, concern flitting across her mind. "Who did?"

"We have no idea," Amalyse said. "There was this girl who handed Krysu the package and told her to give it to you. Know anyone like that? Maybe a mutt or something?"

"Of course not." Nabooru knew that this ought to be reported to Aveni, or perhaps Lenea. These were exactly the kind of bizarre windfall that they were taught to be distrustful of. Every instinct she had told her that they should never accept gifts from strangers, especially if that gift was food or a weapon. But before she could think about that in any detail, she would be distracted by the wickedly sharp blades, or the way the gems glimmered, or the perfect grips of each. They seemed fit to the bumps and curves of her palms, to the point where she knew that the ruby one was for her right hand, and the sapphire her left.

The other girls were just as dazzled by the weapons, each one reaching forward to touch part of it every few seconds. "So how do you feel?" Krysu asked. "Healed yet?"

Nabooru said, "Actually, yeah. The stab wound is gone, but the Healer won't let me leave. That magic really freaked her out."

The girls had heard about that; everyone had. Tami's fingers brushed against the golden hilt. "I didn't know gold could get this smooth," she said. "It makes you want to fight with them, doesn't it?" The others burst into a clamor of agreement, each eager to see the swords in action.

Nabooru thought once again about her orders, her instincts, her health. Then she tightened her grip around the hilts of the scimitars and climbed out of bed, leading her friends out to the most isolated fighting space in the Fortress. They were falling into formation when a shadow moved just outside of Nabooru's vision. She whirled around, raising her scimitar, and almost hit a stunned Ganondorf in the head with the flat of her blade. "Ganondorf!" she cried. "What are you doing here?"

The other girls had dropped to their knees. Nabooru inclined her head, but didn't want to set the swords down long enough to bow properly.

"I was taking a walk," he said, "and happened to see you." He took her by the elbow and drew her away, his expression darkening. "What are you doing here?"

"Would you believe that the Healer let me go?"

Ganondorf sighed, giving her an incredulous look. Then he noticed the scimitars. "Where did you get these?"

"Some girl gave them to me. Cool, huh? I wish I could thank her."

"I bet I can," he muttered. For some reason he didn't seem nearly as impressed by them as her friends had been.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just be careful." He turned and disappeared into the night without so much as a goodbye, leaving Nabooru to return to her friends . . . who weren't there._They must have gone to bed_, she assumed. "Rude of them not to say goodbye," she muttered, but was distracted from her irritation by the brightness of the swords. She grinned, turning around so that the moon was shining directly on them. For some reason, the blades didn't seem as bright as before, which was enough to make her hesitate. However, she couldn't quite bring herself to part with them, and Aveni would insist that they be taken away. They might even be destroyed.

Ganondorf would know what to do. At least, he should. He was her king, after all. If she had to guess as to where he was going . . .

As Nabooru turned toward the west, the swords grew brighter again. _Magic, _she thought, knowing that this meant she should give them up; she had no excuse to keep them anymore. Unless, of course, they were leading her to Ganondorf, in which case they were made of _good_ magic.

The Gerudo didn't know the difference between good and bad magic. They wouldn't be able to appreciate her gifts.

That settled, she began to follow the glow of the swords, hoping they would lead her to Ganondorf.

* * *

Ganondorf was sitting on a rock outside the sphere of Koume and Kotake's influence. Or, at least, what he had always assumed was their sphere of influence. Now that they had unleashed those swords into the world, who knew how far their magic could spread?

He should have taken them away as soon as he saw them. But there was always the chance that he could fall under their thrall; he had wanted to, after watching them glisten in the moonlight. It was better if he stayed as far away from them as possible.

He was surprised as something bright and silver appeared in the corner of his vision. "I found you!" Nabooru said, her face white under the glow of the swords. "I knew they would lead me to — _ahhh!_" She dropped the swords, blinking. "They got hot all of a sudden. That's weird." She paused for a second, then shrugged and knelt to pick them up again.

Ganondorf knew that this was the effect of his mothers' spell, and that Nabooru wasn't really this stupid. Still, he couldn't help but feel a stab of frustration as he tried to pull her away from the scimitars. He was too late, though.

Once her fingers closed around the jeweled hilts, she was hit with a burst of heat that seared up her right hand, leaving burns that made the healing welts on her right cheek look and feel as inconsequential as acne. Her left arm was freezing, to the point where she felt nothing but agonizing tingles from that arm, and her hand felt as far away as the Gerudo Fortress. Her back arched as she screamed, unaware of anything but blistering cold and frigid heat, mixing together in a pain that couldn't tell one sensation from the other.

_"This isn't going to work with Ganondorf here!"_ Nabooru didn't know whether the voice was in her mind or in the air, and the words meant nothing to her weakened brain.

"_Be quiet! As long as she holds the swords she can hear us!" _The pain lessened to a point where she could make sense of the voices. Gibberish slowly morphed into language, and she heard,_ "We are setting you free for now. But you need to return to us tomorrow night. If not, we will come get you. You cannot tell anyone."_Something about the woman's voice was comforting, though at the same time threatening. She nodded.

The burning pain disappeared, as did the voice and the light. She fell into Ganondorf's arms, which were held out in preparation for this very event.

They weren't prepared for her to fall straight forward, though. As he lunged forward to snatch her out of the air, he lost his balance and sent them both sprawling. They toppled down the dune, landing on the sand below. He landed flat on his back, and she crashed down on top of him. Their legs were tangled together. Her nose was touching his. They stared at each other.

Nabooru admired his long red hair, his tiny bit of stubble, the tiny gold-and-orange earring, and his dark orange eyes. She'd always been bad at reading faces, and his was especially inscrutable. It annoyed her to no end.

Ganondorf looked at her long eyelashes, framing golden-yellow eyes, her hair that fell around his face, and the spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks. The welts on her face had healed, as had the ones on her arm, but he wasn't really noticing that. He was thinking that her face was one that expressed extreme emotions, whether happy or sad. She wasn't one for mild reactions, and it was exhausting.

She gazed down at him. For once she wasn't laughing. "You're obnoxious," she said.

"You're worse."

She laughed at that, then gave him a hesitant kiss on the lips, pulling away almost as soon as she'd made contact. For once, they were both shy. "I-I've never . . . There aren't any guys at the Fortress," she finally said.

"There weren't any girls with Koume and Kotake," he replied, which seemed to give her courage. The second kiss was a lot longer than the first, though equally tame. After a few moments, she climbed to her feet.

"It's been a weird night," Nabooru said. "I shouldn't have done that. I just . . ." Her jaw set, and any traces of shyness — what they were both trained to call weakness — fled from her face. "I just lost my focus for a moment," she finished coolly. "It won't happen again, Your Highness."

* * *

Daphnes sat on the edge of Lord Jabu-Jabu's pool. He knew that at his age he shouldn't have run away, considering what had just happened. But considering what had just happened . . . how could he _not_ run away?

"Wisdom," he whispered, his bare feet kicking at the shallow water. He hadn't had any glowing eyes, any out-of-body experiences. Just Wisdom.

Of course, if he actually _had_ any wisdom, he would have known what this all meant.

"Daph!" He heard splashing behind him as Zelda squished her way over to him. He looked first at the dripping hem of her dress, then up at her face. She grinned. "I almost fell in one of the pools," she said, "but Trent caught me." She shook one foot, sending water droplets over their admittedly-unimpressive garb. She plopped down next to him, her smile fading. "So what happened?"

He clutched his right hand to his chest, not sure how to say it. "Zelda, when you . . . did whatever you did, I was mostly trying to figure out what was going on. But after it was over, and there was the triangle on your hand . . . I had one, too."

For a moment she just stared at him. "_You_ had a golden triangle?" she demanded. He nodded, and she turned pale. "What does that mean?" When he had no answer for him, she said it again, louder. "_What does it mean, Daphnes?_"

"I don't know!" he cried. "I didn't change or anything, I didn't glow. All I heard was a voice that said, 'Wisdom'! I have no idea what that means!"

"Oh, no," she whispered. "Not again. This isn't happening again."

"Zelda, what are you talking about?" When she didn't answer, just kept staring at him with her wide blue eyes, he reached out and gently touched her wrist. "Listen, this is all very odd, but I believe that was the Triforce. I do not know what it means, but perhaps our journey is being blessed by the goddesses. Maybe Nayru; she is the goddess of wisdom, after all." Yeah, that made sense.

Zelda still didn't look fully convinced, but at least that horrified expression was off her face. "Maybe," she conceded. "But Prince Zora was there, too. Why didn't he feel it?" Her gaze landed on him, her eyes narrowing. "What makes us special?"

Normally, Daphnes was very good at not saying what he felt, even to himself. However, the events of the last hour had left him quite shaken, and he blurted out, "You mean you do not feel it? Deep inside, anywhere?"

To that she had nothing but silence. Then, before he could stop her, she leapt to her feet and sprinted away, leaving him staring after her, baffled.

_That_ wasn't supposed to happen. He took off after her, slipping on the wet stone and kicking up water behind him.

* * *

Prince Zora leaned back against the wall, talking to Trent and keeping an eye out for Zelda. She'd told him that she would be fine looking for Daphnes on her own, but she was rather wild and impulsive. That, combined with whatever had happened . . . He was still trembling slightly.

Trent was explaining how he'd lost yet another girlfriend. "So she was all like, 'I thought you loved me, I thought you were sensitive, I thought you wanted _millions of Zora children_!' And I . . . panicked. And she pushed me off the waterfall. Man, it really hurts if you land in the water on your back like that. Especially if there's a Zora under you. Are all girls this weird? Like, are Sheikah girls and Hylian girls this crazy?"

"Absolutely," Prince Zora mumbled, not paying attention. Trent rolled his eyes. Prince Zora missed it though, since he was looking out for Zelda. He waved his hand, to tell Trent to continue.

"And then I blew flaming cuccos out of my butt . . ."

"_What?_" Prince Zora whirled around once the words had penetrated.

"You weren't listening."

He nodded, smiling apologetically. "I'm looking for Zelda."

Trent looked at him, disgusted. "You _like_ this girl?"

"No! Heavens, no." He shook his head vehemently. She had _hair_, for one thing. And her — all Hylians, in fact — skin was such an unnatural pink color. It was just that she was something special, touched by the goddesses. He needed to figure out what was going on, and what he was going to do about it.

"Then what's the problem?"

At that moment, a door was thrown open and Zelda raced past, her eyes wild and desperate. A second later Daphnes sprinted out after Zelda, calling her name and stumbling over his own feet.

Prince Zora sighed, climbing to his feet. "That is the problem, Trent. Now, if you will catch one or both of them, I need to go get an important item."

* * *

"_Psst. Imp._" Impa was laying on the hard stone floor in the corner of her cell. The other men had snored the entire day, but she was too uncomfortable to sleep.

She raised her head. "What?" she hissed, knowing immediately who it was.

"Get over here!"

She crawled over to the bars, following Sheik's voice. "Where are you?" He dropped to the floor. Impa scrambled back instinctively, though they still had the iron between them. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Rescuing you." He was safe, because the guards were stationed outside the entrance to the dungeons but not within, and somehow he had sneaked past them. Furthermore, they were out of view of the other cells, so none of the other prisoners could rat them out.

"Really." She had seen Sheik's attempts at plans: rescue plans, heist plans, plans of every fashion. None of them worked.

"Yeah. See?" He took out a long knife and began sawing at the bars. After a few fruitless minutes, he gave up. "How about using keys?" he asked.

"Sounds good to me." Sheik grabbed the keys and opened the door. Impa stepped out, and they turned to leave. "Wait!"

"What?" he asked, turning around.

"The door."

They'd left the door wide open, the keys dangling from it.

"Oops." He was halfway back when his arm hit the suit of armor. It crashed to the floor with a deafening clatter. "_Din_!" Sheik cried when he realized what he'd done. He bent down to pick it up, and his foot hit another suit. It smashed into another. Like dominos, all the way down the hall, suits of armor banged into each other, making a racket that probably woke up the entire castle. When the noise had died down, there was a ringing in their ears that was almost as loud as the falling metal. "Who has goddess-damned _armor_ in their dungeon?" he snarled. "Let alone positioned in such a precarious position?"

"Smart people," Impa replied. "It worked better than the guards, didn't it?"

The prisoners had woken up, and were making their way to the entrance of the cell. The largest, a man with a bushy black beard and dark skin, looked down at Sheik and Impa, both of whom felt very tiny in comparison. "You two let us out?" he asked. They nodded, and he reached around them to grab three long knives, which Impa assumed had once been their property before being confiscated.

The second prisoner ran a thumb along his blade, sizing them up. "And then you made all that noise that could get us killed?"

This time, they both hesitated before nodding their agreement. Both of them shifted into positions of attack.

"Well, then," the first one said, "you kids better be ready to fight, because the three of us aren't going to be able to take on all these guards by ourselves."

"What's going on here?" They all stared at the guard who had entered the dungeon behind them. Peering over his shoulder were at least six others. The three burly prisoners beamed toothlessly and prepared to battle.

Sheik's plans _never_ went well.

* * *

Zelda finally stopped running when she couldn't hear Daphnes calling after her anymore. Years of chasing hyperactive children had put her in far better shape to outrace the prince, but she almost wished that she hadn't. He was far too kind to be abandoned like that, especially seeing as he was her sovereign.

But at the same time . . . he had heard voices. He had the triangle. He felt _something_, deep down, that said they were different. Connected, somehow. That was not something she'd ever expected him to say, which meant he was acting differently. Just like Dimitri. Even if he was right, and they were touched by the Triforce or the goddesses or something that wasn't evil, it was just too bizarre.

She sat down outside the Domain, plopping down by the river and putting her head in her hands. Could the goddesses throw someone normal into her path? Someone who wasn't the plaything of supernatural forces?

"Zelda!" He'd finally caught up. Though he was thin enough, it took him a few minutes before he could catch enough breath to speak. For the first time, she noticed that his eyes were tired and worried, and there seemed to constantly be a little frown line creasing his brow. Feeling a rush of pity, Zelda patted the ground next to her. He collapsed gratefully. "So what happened?" he asked, mimicking their exchange in Jabu-Jabu's lair.

"This is too much," she replied. "Nayru, the Triforce, Hyrule . . . Everything's changing so fast, and I don't know what I'm doing. And I don't know what things you're feeling deep inside, but I'm not comfortable with it."

"I understand." His neck and ears flushed pink, and he stared down at his knees.

But she felt that he needed more of an explanation than that. "I've met people who've felt things before," she said, "and those things turned this guy into a huge asshole."

His eyes widened and he met her gaze. "But I would never do that! I —"

Zelda sighed. "It's just that once the deities start getting into people's minds, things don't end well."

He froze. "What on earth are you talking about? I meant that . . . I meant something completely different."

"What, then?"

Daphnes ran a hand through his blond hair, stalling for time. "All I meant is that we were supposed to meet, I believe. My life has been thrown into disarray because of you, and that was not chance. If I had ever thought that it was, this Triforce experience has changed my mind. The only question that remains to be answered is why."

This wasn't what she had thought, but there was something in his tone that made her nervous. "Do you think you know the answer?"

"Perhaps." He was studying her, his gray eyes dark with some emotion she couldn't read. Before she could ask him again, he climbed to his feet, taking her hands and pulling her up with him. For a moment they just stood there, looking down at their interlocked hands. When she lifted her head to read his expression, he leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn't perfect; his lips were dry and rough, and he clearly wasn't sure what to do with his tongue. However, it was her first kiss, and he was so unbelievably warm compared to the night air that she wanted nothing more than to huddle into his arms. Besides, as far as guys went, Daphnes was a pretty good one to have want her. Better than —

Suddenly an image of Demi, his eyes filled with sadness and confusion, flashed into her mind. She pulled back, her heart hammering loud enough to make her head hurt. "No."

"No?" He wrinkled his brow. "I am terribly sorry if I have offended you, Zelda. M-Miss Zelda."

"It's too fast. I mean, the whole Dark Triforce, and Demi, and . . ." She realized she hadn't told him about that, and the idea of explaining her messed-up life to this undeserving prince was too much for her to handle. "I need to go."

"Wait. Zel —"

She took a step back, then another, then she was sprinting in the direction of Hyrule Castle. She kept thinking of Dimitri, and how she'd always sworn to herself that she loved him. She had, even when she'd considered him nothing more than a stuck-up, lazy jerk. She'd lay on the beach, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. She recalled with a pang of regret that she never would know.

But Daphnes was different. She liked him, too. He was funny, smart, sweet, and he honestly cared about her. She was never sure Demi had. She thought of him, always there for her, even though he had a castle, a kingdom, and no reason to be nice to her. He'd always been understanding, without really understanding what was wrong with her. He always tried.

Then again, she'd hurt Demi too. And he was all alone . . . and it was her fault. Maybe if she'd stayed, she could have helped him.

Daphnes had to deal with a war, and his father dying (he never said anything, but Zelda could tell, over the few weeks they'd spent together, that he was worried) . . .

Demi was so cute and funny. They'd known each other forever.

When Daphnes was about to kiss her, she'd wanted him to, even though she could have sworn that she'd never want that ever again.

She was torn between guilt over what she'd done to Demi, and guilt over what she could do to Daphnes. Happiness that she'd once had and lost, and an older, less innocent happiness that was still within her grasp.

It was all so confusing.

She had to talk to Impa.

* * *

A/N: Oh, this one turned out very poor. I did my best with a bad setup, though, and it's a lot more tolerable than it had been.


	11. Shift

**CHAPTER 6**

Sneaking back into the castle was just as easy as sneaking out of it. Had Zelda been feeling less conflicted, she would have made a note to remind Daphnes once again about how poorly protected he and his family were. But then again, thinking of Daphnes made her brain hurt, so she pushed the thought out of her mind. The sprint to the castle had made her look even more like a sweaty, overworked maid, and she was able to find out that several prisoners had escaped from the dungeons without being recognized.

She hadn't known Impa and Sheik all that long, but she suspected that this was their doing.

A guard snatched her arm as she tried to sneak past him into the dungeons. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "That's no place for a girl."

"I —" She didn't know what to say; what _was_ she doing down there? Before she could come up with an acceptable excuse, the man gurgled and staggered forward. He coughed, and blood splattered the front of her dress. She managed a shrill grasp and staggered back up the stairs, allowing him to collapse onto them in front of her.

"Zelda? Why're you here?" Impa's face was shiny with sweat, but she seemed casual enough as she yanked her dagger out of the slit between the guard's armor and helmet.

"You . . . you killed him. And it was my fault." She couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. People didn't die on Piquo, or if they did, it was of old age or alcohol poisoning behind closed doors, or they were swept up on the shore, skin waxy and bloated. They didn't _bleed_, and they weren't murdered sober. "If he hadn't been talking to me . . ."

Impa glanced over her shoulder, and once she was assured that they hadn't caught any of the guards' eyes, she held out her hand. "Come on, we have to get out of here. I won't let anyone get you, I promise."

Zelda's eyes widened. "You have blood under your fingernails," she said faintly.

"Oh, for the . . . He was going to kill both of us. It's not bad if it's self-defense." She snatched Zelda's wrist and dragged her into the dungeon. Her hand was cold and sticky with blood, and Zelda couldn't breathe with the stench of death in the stuffy air. For a moment, she thought she was going to be ill. "Sheik?" Impa cried, standing on her tiptoes and peering around the battling men around her.

Suddenly a hand, far larger and stronger than Impa's, closed around Zelda's other wrist, hauling her out of her friend's grasp. She screamed, thrashing like a fish on a hook. Whirling around to face her attacker with her other arm raised in a fist, she saw a large guard with black curls springing beneath his helm. For an insane moment she saw Demi, and before she could stop it her arm shot out, her hand half-clenched. By pure luck, her second knuckles grazed the top edge of the man's visor, slicing through the skin on her first two fingers and bending them just enough that they slipped through the thin crack. Her fingers met resistance for a second before they pushed through it, surrounded in wet, gooey warmth. Her second shriek was louder than the first, and she nearly broke her fingers trying to free them. This poor guard who had had the misfortune of looking like Dimitri dropped to his knees, wailing and clawing at his visor.

She stared at her fingers, which were coated in blood and something she was afraid was eyeball.

"Zelda!" Impa regained her grasp on her wrist and continued dragging her away. "It's not that I'm not impressed," she huffed, stepping over bodies that Zelda hoped were only unconscious, "but I need you to focus _right now._"

"I . . ." She shook her head and wiped her hand on her skirt, pushing aside her terror. Impa was right, and she didn't want to die. "Tell me where to go."

"Good girl," Impa said. "Follow me." Somehow they made it out of the main area of the dungeons and down the long row of cells, weaving around the hands that stretched out from between the bars pleadingly.

"Got the keys, girls?"

"Quick, while they're distracted!"

"You have to let me out, I've been here for months . . ."

Sheik was waiting at the end of the hallway. Leaning up against the wall in his black-and-navy-blue uniform, he was almost invisible. He peered over their shoulders. "Still distracted," he reported, turning and disappearing down another corridor.

"Thank the goddesses," Impa muttered, following him into the shadows as more voices cried out from behind them.

"Don't leave!"

"You can still get the keys!"

"GUARDS! Prisoners escaping! And I told you first, don't let anyone forget —"

"Please tell me you have a plan," Impa said over the noise.

"I've found a way out." He pulled open a door and slipped inside. The sound of guards fighting and the desperate shrieks of the inmates were immediately cut off. They were in a long, wet hallway. The floor extended for maybe five feet before dropping off into a ditch half-full of muddy water. It had to be at least twenty feet down, and aside from the platform they were on, there was only about a foot or two of floor on either side of the ditch. The water was moving at a pretty fast pace. "Gutters," he explained, rubbing his chin. "They catch the rainwater and send it out to the fields behind the castle." He shrugged. "Must be raining."

"Great," Impa said.

"How did you find it?" Zelda knew Sheik well enough to be wary. Pink had finally returned to her cheeks, though she couldn't stop rubbing at her fingers like the blood was still on them.

"Slipped away during the fighting. Wandered around for a little bit before coming back." He paused, looking her up and down. "When did you get here? And what's with . . ." He gestured to his chest; when she glanced down, she saw the crimson stain from when the guard had spit blood on her.

Impa sighed. "Don't worry, Zel," she said. "It's an occupational hazard as a guard. He was probably ready to go." Turning to Sheik, she added, "I have no idea where she came from. She was just standing behind this guy I stabbed. Blinded someone, though."

Sheik's eyebrows shot up. "No kidding?"

"I-it was an accident," Zelda said weakly. "He looked like . . . oh, and I left Daphnes in Zora's Domain. I . . . just had to leave." Tears filled her eyes as she realized exactly what had happened in the few hours she'd been awake.

"Ho, boy. I'm not good with this girly stuff." Impa patted her hand awkwardly. "We'll talk about this later, okay?" That settled, she turned back to Sheik. "So where are we going?"

"Remember Ryad?" They made their way to the end of the shadowy hall, having to shuffle around the ditch with their backs pressed against the wall. At the end there was a wooden ladder bolted to the wall, water running down it from the rain like a dirty waterfall. Sheik stepped aside, holding out his arm so that they could climb up before him. Zelda started to before Impa snatched her arm, hauling her forcibly to the ground and leaving red finger-marks around her wrist.

"Nuh-uh."

He stared at her, eyes wide. "You don't remember him? I thought you were in the same Coding class, weren't you?"

"That's not what I meant. _You're_ going up first." As he passed, his expression still one of innocence and bewilderment (phony, of course), she smacked the back of his head, watching with amusement as his hair rose in a blonde puff. "Pig."

"I find that offensive," he said over his shoulder, climbing the ladder. Impa let Zelda go up next, double-checking to make sure no one else was coming. They were still clear; those prisoners were really giving the guards a run for their money. They would end up dying, of course, but it was almost a shame. "Anyway, I was here like a month or so ago, and it turns out he lives in town now. So I thought we'd stop by, say hello, get safe passage out of here. You know, friend stuff."

"Of course." At the top of the ladder was a circular grate. He tilted his head back, squinting to keep the rain out of his eyes, and pushed up at the grate. Luckily various guards and servants used this enough that it lifted easily, and he climbed out onto the edge of town. "Be careful," he called down, holding out a rain-slick hand to Zelda. "The streets tilt so you're getting all the water running down here."

Impa followed, appreciating the warmth of his hand on hers. "Seems like bad planning to put an exit so close to the dungeons," she said.

"I broke the lock. It was a pretty big one. Besides, I almost fell into the gutter the first time I went in there. I think a prisoner running too fast would find himself swept away before he could get out safely." He replaced the grate and stepped under an awning, wringing the water out of his long hair.

"Hey, look who it is." All three whirled around at the voice. There were two people, Zelda could tell. One was short and stocky, with broad shoulders and a warm, open face. Brown hair flopped over one eye, and he was dressed in normal market clothes; if it weren't for his red eyes and slightly tan skin, no one would know he was a Sheikah. The other was in the shadows.

"Ryad?" Sheik shook his head to try and get the water out of his face. "We were just about to go find you. What're you doing here?"

Ryad shrugged. "Jaysia wanted to go for a walk. Weird coincidence, isn't it?"

Zelda felt Impa tense up beside her. "Yeah, it's weird," she said. "Hi, Jaysia."

Ryad held out his hand, and the girl stepped into the dim light. Jaysia was beautiful, with long blue hair flowing down her back and swaying around her hips. Her eyes were a blue so pale that they bordered on gray, and her skin was almost white. She stared at them, her eyes narrowed into thin slits, her gaze lingering on Zelda. After a moment, though, she smiled, holding up a delicate hand to shield her face. _It was just the rain, _Zelda told herself. The only thing that was unsettling about her were those eyes. Blue hair wasn't _that_ strange, not compared to Impa's, but she had never seen eyes that pale.

Jaysia smiled. "You're wondering about my eyes," she said softly. "How I can be a Sheikah with these eyes."

Ryad, Sheik, and Impa had all looked away, clearly uncomfortable. Zelda shrugged, feeling pinned by her gaze. "No, I . . . they're very pretty."

"I am a bastard. My father was from the northern isles. Fotmea."

And _now_ she understood why they were uncomfortable. "Oh."

Jaysia turned her alarming gaze to Impa and Sheik. "Hello, friends," she said. Her voice was oddly stilted and formal, like she was an old woman rather than a teenager. In fact, she sound a little like Daphnes, but without the nervous charm. "It has been a while."

Impa nodded. Sheik smiled, though it didn't look very natural to Zelda. "Hey, Jay. How've you guys —"

Ryad had knelt down, examining the grate from which they'd emerged. "You had to sneak out of the castle," he said, "and I'm hearing voices from down there."

Sheik's face paled, the weak smile disappearing. "Maybe we should get back to your place," he said hastily.

Jaysia shook her head, her hair accidentally hitting both Zelda and Impa's faces. "I do not think that would be a good idea. What if the guards search the town?" She twirled a strand of her hair nervously, coiling it around her finger like a spindle of blue thread. "I think you should go over the drawbridge and get out tonight."

A hint of humor came back to Sheik's face; he even managed a chuckle as his eyes met Impa's. "To the roofs again, Imp."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Great. I _love_ the roofs." She took Zelda's wrist, in case she would try to run. "Don't worry, Zel, these are low. You'll be fine." She led them toward the drawbridge, which they would climb over.

Jaysia fell into step beside her. "You are frightened of heights?" she asked.

Zelda nodded. "Though compared to the rest of today, this is nothing."

Jaysia stared at her, her pale eyes almost seeming to glow in the predawn light. "It is quite fortunate we came along, is it not?"

"Yeah, I guess. I can't believe you were walking around at this time, though. And in the rain."

For the first time, a shadow of a smile hinted at her lips. "I do not know what to say. Sometimes coincidences occur."

"That's true." _But it's still _really_ weird, _she thought, hoping that Jaysia couldn't read the suspicion on her face.

From the way she narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together, however, Zelda had the sinking feeling that she could.

* * *

There was nothing but blackness. Dimitri knew that that wasn't good, that there was supposed to be light, that he could be blind or dead or both, but there was something warm about this blackness, comforting.

_Up. _The sound cut through the dark haze, with it a burst of light that seared like a brand. He cringed around himself, trying to ignore the voice. "No," he mumbled, though his tongue was a heavy, dry slab of meat on the floor of his mouth, and speaking hurt.

_Yes. Get up now._ Again the pain filled his head, the words creating a fissure in his skull from which light poured through, banishing the soft darkness to the very edges of his vision.

"Over here." Once his eyes had adjusted to being open for the first time in what felt like a thousand days, they registered a large, bright room that he had never seen before. His gaze then lighted on the other occupant of the room. She was an elegant old woman with silver hair that was twisted into a complicated bun. Her eyes were gentle and warm, and she spoke quietly, as if she knew just how much he hurt. "What do you need?" she asked, moving from her chair across the room to sit on the edge of the bed that he was lying in.

Din, he hadn't realized how desperately he'd wanted to hear those words until they'd been spoken. "Water," he managed to croak, feeling like each word was clawing gashes into the back of his throat. His head was pounding.

She gestured to the table next to him, and with great effort he picked up the glass that was placed in the center. There were beads of condensation along the edges, and he almost fought back a moan. No one had ever wanted anything so badly as he wanted this water. As he gulped it down as fast as he possibly could, she added, "Where did you come from?"

"Piquo. But my boat . . ." He tried to remember, but couldn't. "Crashed."

"You are near Hyrule, on the island of Gish. We found you washed up on the shore outside only two days ago." She gestured in the general direction of the ocean. "The town doctor has been in to see you, and he says that, aside from extreme dehydration, you are unharmed. He said that you are allowed to move about the house, but not to wander." Her comforting smile warmed into one of genuine amusement as she said, "And, of course, to drink plenty of water. What is your name, by the way?"

"Dimitri," he said. There was no more water in the cup, so he licked at the condensation around the outside, not caring how he must have looked. "Could I?" he asked, holding out the glass.

"I'll get you more. If you feel well enough to stand, please have a look around." She smiled, running her hand along the nearest wall. "This used to be my eldest daughter's bedroom, but you don't have to worry about that." Her lips tightened for a second, the movement almost like a spasm. "You can call me Adela," she said curtly. "In a moment, Dimitri. Please enjoy the room."

Once she was gone, he let himself fall back against the pillows. His throat and mouth were no longer crying in agony, and he was able to appreciate the first comfort since he'd left Piquo.

It was short-lived comfort, as several days without using the bathroom took their toll. His limbs were shaking the effort to stand, but he made it to the door with only a few stumbles. As he reached for the handle, however, it swung open, revealing a small woman whose nose was about at level with his nipples. She stared up at him with red eyes ringed in black ashes (a very popular style on Piquo), her mouth hanging open to reveal slightly-bucked front teeth. "You're up," she said, surprised. "She didn't say you'd be up."

He nodded. "My name is Demi. Um, if you could —"

"She said you'd want the bathroom. I'm supposed to show you. Come on." Once he was finished, she led him back to his room in silence, opening the bedroom door for him and turning to leave.

"Wait," he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. As his hand brushed her skin, she jerked out of the way; he overbalanced and almost fell over before catching himself on the wall.

"Don't touch me," she snarled, her expression suddenly hostile. Strands of short black hair fell into her eyes, but she glared through them at him.

"I-I don't know what I did to offend you, Miss . . ."

"Jade." Her expression didn't soften, but at least she didn't run, which he had half-expected.

"Miss Jade, but I didn't mean it. I was just going to thank you for your kindness." He couldn't quite hide the sarcasm, though he regretted it as her jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed.

"Listen, _she_ might think that people's hair and eyes change color when they're dehydrated, but I know better. I talked to our boatman, and he said that that never happens. And he would know. So whatever you are, I don't want to have anything to do with it. It or . . . or that." Her fingers stretched out in the direction of his hand, the one marked with the Dark Triforce. When he lifted it up to show her, she snatched her hand back, holding it to her chest like he'd burnt it. "So get better and get out of here."

Her speech left him dumbfounded. "What did you do?" he muttered, though once it had woken him up, the Dark Triforce didn't seem keen to speak to him. Perhaps it had decided that Demi was too injured to continue their journey for a while. Or perhaps that it had left him in good hands.

Jade stared at him like he was crazy — which, admittedly, was fair. "She'll be up with your water soon," she finally said, smoothing the skirt of her lavender sundress, which was out of place with her makeup and demeanor. "Just stay in your room until then."

As she turned to walk away, he asked, "How far away are we from Hyrule?"

His voice made her cringe, but she stopped long enough to say, "A few miles up shore there's a river that leads into Lake Hylia."

The thought filled Dimitri with such relief that he didn't notice as she left.

He was only a few miles away from Hyrule. Only a few miles away from Zelda.


	12. Shift Part II

"I can't believe we're here!" Amalyse said, her eyes wide with excitement. She was barely fifteen, the youngest of their age group, and this was her first time in Hyrule's Market Town. A girl needed experience stealing, after all, and Nabooru had been chosen to train her, which was ridiculous; she was terrible at stealth.

"It'll be good for you too, then," Aveni had said with a small smile. "If you honestly feel that you need help, I'll send Krysu with you."

Krysu had been thrilled, of course. She hadn't stopped gloating since she'd heard about the assignment, and it was driving Nabooru crazy. Which was why she'd lied and said that Tami and Jessa were invited as well, in order to keep them from messing up.

Sure, her friends would have a hard time explaining why they hadn't been to any of their training, but it had wiped the smirk off Krysu's face, and that made it worthwhile.

"It's so pretty," Jessa agreed, looking around appreciatively. She was twenty-three, making her older than the rest of them, but Amalyse's excitement was infectious.

Nabooru was still the leader, though, and she wasn't going to let anyone forget it. "Well, stop looking around like this is one big Leever patch," she hissed. "We're just here to trade, and we have to look casual."

"Why don't you let me handle this," Krysu said, faking nonchalance as she swaggered to the front of the group. "After all, Aveni trusted me —"

"Both of you, shut up," Tami said, rolling her eyes. "This is Amalyse's job, so we'll let _her_ handle this. We're just backup, remember?"

Amalyse paled. "Oh, I don't know about this . . ."

"Come on, you're a Gerudo, daughter of the Desert Goddess," Nabooru said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Discipline, right?"

"But you guys aren't disciplined at _all_."

Jessa chuckled, then gestured at a store with a wooden sign shaped like a ring. "Maybe we can trade some of our jewelry," she said, just loud enough for anyone walking by to hear. "I've got some stuff from Ryia he might want to look at." Under her breath she added, "The usual."

"Do us both a favor," Nabooru whispered to Amalyse, "and ignore Krysu. Watch Jessa instead."

When they entered, they saw a spindly man seated behind a glass counter, handing a black necklace to an equally spindly woman. When she'd cleared out, the five Gerudo stepped forward. Jessa took Amalyse by the arm and let the others approach the shopkeeper while they peered discreetly for cracks in the glass or an unfastened latch. Nabooru, the best-looking despite her lack of skill in thievery, stepped up to the counter, leaning on it with her forearms and smiling flirtatiously at the old man. _Why is this always my job? _she thought with an inward sigh, trying her best to look seductive. Krysu fell in beside her, tracing one long-nailed finger along the surfaces of every piece of jewelry on display. Between watching Nabooru's very-visible cleavage and Krysu's wandering hands on his merchandise, the shopkeeper would be too busy to pay attention as the other three strolled the shop, lifting a ring here, a watch there, slipping probing fingers into poorly-locked cabinets and cluttered displays.

At least, that was the plan. The old man, however, climbed to his feet before they could do more than get into position. "What do you think you're doing here?" he demanded, his eyes darting from one Gerudo to the other.

Nabooru pulled a pair of huge gold earrings from her pocket. "I was wondering if you wanted to buy these."

"Get out. I'll call the guards, I swear I will!"

Her mouth fell open. Sure, the shopkeepers weren't always thrilled to see them (with good reason), but they _did_ offer good merchandise, and if the shopkeeper was sly enough with his pricing, this pair of earrings could make back half of what they stole. Assuming they didn't manage to get anything good, that was. "Listen, if you don't want these —"

"We saw them, Roran." A pair of guards had entered the store without Nabooru's noticing, and there were more stationed outside. "Come with us, ladies."

Amalyse looked terrified as she pocketed the necklace she'd snatched. A glance from Jessa, though, and her face hardened into stone.

Nabooru wasn't quite so under control. "What did we do?" she asked, looking at Krysu for some hint of understanding.

The guard took Tami by the arm, his fingers tightening as she tried to worm away. "You are under arrest for crossing the border into Hyrule proper. He gestured to his partner, who unfurled a scroll and read, "From this, the sixteenth day of the pregnant moon" — that was about a week ago, she believed; Hyrulian time was based on the full moon rather than the red star, as the Ryian calendar was — "of this, the one-thousand-twelfth year since the dawn of the Goddesses, those of the Gerudo race shall be accepted no nearer than the Gerudo Valley as its boundaries are currently established. Those who fail to comply (that is, found within the borders of Hyrule) shall be arrested and brought before the King of Hyrule or his acting regent immediately." He rolled the scroll up and placed it in the pouch at his hip. Snapping the fingers of his free hand, the guard who held Tami summoned those who had been waiting outside. The Gerudo all looked at each other, a little confused as to what that notice had said, especially with all that pagan-Goddeses moon talk thrown in.

Nabooru got it first. "We're _banned?_" None of the men answered, and after a head shake from Jessa, they didn't struggle as they were brought up to the castle and into the throne room. The guard behind Nabooru pressed his knee into the back of hers, forcing her kneel before the Hylian monarch. Watching her bow, the others did the same, though none of them looked happy about it.

The Hylian king was disappointing. From the stories she'd heard, she had expected a mountain of a man, someone who might be long in years, but who could still defeat a warrior half his age. That was how the chain of command worked. However, this frail-looking man didn't seem any more royal than the jewelry store clerk, aside from the velvet and glittering jewels. _Ganondorf could make cucco paste out of him, _she thought. That, of course, reminded her that she hadn't eaten cucco paste in almost ten years, not since their passage into Hyrule was limited to two days a week. His voice, however, was every bit as deep and brash as she had expected. "What were you doing in the market?"

The others were silent, apparently having decided that Nabooru was the leader. Which she supposed Aveni had appointed her as. "We were trading," she said, adding a hasty "Your Majesty" after a jab in the back from her guard.

"That is forbidden."

"We didn't _know!_" Amalyse exclaimed. "Nobody told . . ." She took a deep breath, and when she resumed her voice and expression were much more stoic, in keeping with a daughter of the Desert Goddess. "Our commanding officers were not informed. Neither was our king."

The king of Hyrule's face froze. "What?"

Nabooru cut in before Amalyse could say any more. "There have been some shifts in power," she said, "and if you would care to discuss them with our leaders, we would be happy to bring back a message —"

"He's back." At the king's declaration, his advisors — who had been nearly invisible as they had sat, statue-still, in cushioned wood chairs behind the throne — burst into excited chatter, their Hylian accents too thick for Nabooru to make out much of what they were saying. The king ignored them all, however, addressing Nabooru's guard. "You will send for this king," he said, "and you will take the Gerudo to the dungeons to await his arrival, at which time negotiations shall be made."

The guard hesitated; she tried to twist around to see his expression, but his grip was too tight for her to move. She knew it would be stupid to fight, but she was so tempted. . . . "Your Highness, the dungeons are not yet —"

"These ladies will be no strangers to a little blood, I'm sure." With that, he waved them away.

* * *

"Are you quite certain you haven't seen her? Blonde, dressed like . . . well, this?" He gestured to his dirty servant's garb and held his hand at collarbone-level. "About this height, if not slouching?"

"I'm sorry, sir," the guard said, shooting an irritated glance at his companion. Daphnes was still amused that his own men didn't recognize him. It must have been his accent; he was trying to imitate Zelda's manner of speaking as much as possible, and was doing rather well, he thought, "but there are a lot of blonde girls in Hyrule, and we have urgent business for the king. Now if you'll please . . ."

_I'm your prince, _Daphnes thought with a sigh, _and your 'urgent business' is a Gerudo mutt. _Still, he let the guards walk past, escorting the tall, redheaded young man with surprising deference, considering his status. He plopped down onto the edge of the fountain that decorated the center of the market, in the shadow of the castle at this time of day. He tilted his head back, the sudden shade welcome after his sprint to get there.

"Hey! Your Highness!"

Daphnes whirled around on his perch, almost falling into the fountain in his haste. No one was looking at him, no guards approaching. And why would they? He was just a twenty-year-old man who needed a shower, not at all different from any other Hylian commoner.

"_Your Highness!_" Finally he saw her, a tall, imposing figure with brilliant blue hair jutting out from under a brown cloak. She was leaning against the edge of the Happy Mask Salesman's shop, looking for all the world like any other teenager waiting for some boy. Except for her eyes, which were cold and the pale-blue color of snow before the sun fully reached the sky. And her heavy cloak.

If only Zelda were here. She would know whether this was a trap or not. Of course, if she were here, he would not be in this situation. He climbed to his feet and made his way over to her.

She looked him up and down, her expression blank. "You're Daphnes," she said. "The prince of Hyrule."

_If Zel were here_ . . . He straightened to his full height, looking down at her with his eyebrows raised. "It is possible," he replied coolly. Two could play at this game.

A flicker of anger passed over her face. "Are you or aren't you?" she snapped. "I don't have time for this."

That was the moment he realized that everything was far worse than he thought. "I-I am. How —"

"I've been following the blonde. Zelda. She's with friends, but I need your help."

"_My_ help?" No one needed Daphnes for anything. "Do you want me to talk to my father, or . . ."

Her eyes widened, finally showing a real emotion that wasn't immediately covered up: fear. "The Royal Family can't know. They'd kill her."

"Zelda?" His heart tightened in panic. "No, they would not, they _could_ not! I —"

"I don't mean _her_. I . . . _Farore_." She pressed a delicate-boned hand to her forehead, looking exhausted. "You know this girl, Zelda?" He nodded. "Then I need you. Come with me to Kakariko, Your Highness." She held out the hand; in the shade it was almost the same translucent white-blue as her eyes, and for once he felt tan in comparison.

He had no other choice, so he reached out and took her hand. "Take me to her," he said.

* * *

Jaysia had taken special care to make sure that she wasn't more than a few steps away from everyone else, letting Ryad take the lead as they escaped town. If she acted too much the leader, the others would get suspicious. Especially Impa, who knew how she was supposed to behave.

She was trying to keep the act up, but it was unbelievably difficult to remember how some teenage bastard had lived in the years when she was close to Impa. Still, when their eyes met she flashed her a small smile, as if their growing apart was a natural, regrettable part of childhood and not a calculated act. Impa lifted one corner of her mouth and a shoulder, which she took as encouragement. The problem lay with the blonde Hylian, who she hadn't counted on. When she had sensed her . . . well, she had been curious.

Her fingers reached out, almost unbidden, to snag a strand of almost-silver hair, curling it over her fingers. She was so _miserable, _it swirled around her like a fog. . . .

Zelda started, jolted out her dreary thoughts by the tickle on her scalp. "What're you doing?" she asked, her voice rough and thickened with a drawl, though familiar to Jaysia's ears.

"You had a lock caught in your sleeve," she said smoothly, tugging it free. "It was irritating me."

"Thanks." She ran a hand through her hair, as though reminded of its presence by her touch. She didn't look particularly pleased, and Jaysia cursed herself for rousing even more suspicion. This girl was already in a distrustful state of mind, and this foolish acquiescence to human curiosity had not helped ingratiate herself.

Before she could berate herself more, she was interrupted by Sheik. She felt his whispered call before she heard it, a dark red spike of concern. "Hey." He stopped, forcing everyone else to halt or leave him behind. "I think someone's following us."

They all peered into the blackness behind them. Jaysia knew that Zelda would see nothing, with her weak Hylian eyes. The other three, however . . . "I don't think so," Impa finally said. "I mean, I trust you way more than I should, Sheik, but there's literally nothing there." Ryad nodded in agreement.

"I . . ." Even Sheik had to admit that there was no way anyone could be hiding in the scant shadows and open plain of Hyrule field. "I could've sworn I heard something."

Ryad glanced once more at the castle wall, making sure none of the guards had heard or spotted them, though it was unlikely that they would have, as all the men been nearly asleep when they'd scaled the wall. "We're all jumpy," he said. "I'm sure it'll be better now." He took a few steps forward and knelt down, digging through the tall grass at the base of a rock half his size. "This is the one," he told them, shoving at it with one shoulder until he had uncovered a hole barely big enough to accommodate them. "Once we're underground, we'll be much safer."

As Ryad lowered them into the hole one at a time, Impa whispered to Zelda, "These rocks used to be part of a huge well for the castle, but Stalchildren kept trying to destroy it and falling into the water. Now the well is kept behind the castle and this hole was filled in. Well, except for this tunnel. We use it now." Impa, always informative and helpful.

Before she followed the others, Jaysia shot one last look over her shoulder. Still not even a hint of movement. But that was to be expected; Katia was too good to give anything away. If Sheik had been momentarily aware of her presence, it was because she had let him. The reason why, however, was impossible to imagine.

The tunnel beneath Hylian Field was pitch black, without even the stumps of torches to light their way. Jaysia could see what she needed to, though. There was the brightness of Ryad, who even at his most unhappy was more cheerful than anyone she'd ever known; Sheik, surprisingly neutral considering the circumstances, with only a niggling of unease in the back of his mind; Impa, still muttering information to Zelda — the protectiveness Jaysia felt in Impa for the small blonde surprised her. And then there was Zelda, who was by far the most suspicious, though only vaguely. She could see them as colors: amber, cool gray with shards of red, a deep, searing orange. Lovely, but not particularly helpful. She was tempted to touch Zelda again, get another taste of the stormy darkness swirling around her, but the risk was not worth the reward, even if Katia _was_ after her.

There would be time to gather strength later. For now, she had to lead them.

* * *

Nabooru was picking at the floor with the edge of her thumbnail, scraping up flakes of dried blood that formed a splotch of dark red. She wondered how new the blood was, and who it had once been inside.

"What do you think they're talking about up there?" Amalyse asked, breaking the silence that had stretched for almost two hours, ever since the guards had informed them that their king had arrived.

Finally Jessa spoke, seeming to take pity on the poor girl. "I don't know," she said, patting Amalyse on the shoulder with three quick, hard thumps: the Gerudo gesture of comfort. "I'm sure we'll hear all about it, though, if the king deems it necessary to inform us."

"I'm sure _one_ of us will, anyway," Krysu muttered, glaring in Nabooru's direction. She kept picking, even though the underside of her thumbnail was now coated with dried blood and it was beginning to feel sore. Unsatisfied with this lack of response, she snapped, "If only we all could take advantage of —" She trailed off, her mouth hanging open, as Ganondorf was escorted into the dungeons by a dozen guards, half in front and half behind him.

He eyed them coolly, then pointed to Nabooru (the other guards all flinched as his hand moved, though none of them drew any weapons). "That one. Come, Nabooru."

She climbed to her feet, shooting a wary glance around at her friends — all of whom looked just as confused as she felt, though only Krysu seemed irritated — before allowing herself to be led up to the throne room.

The Hylian king stared down at her, his lips pressed into a white line, as his council lined the wall behind him. "Well?" he said.

Nabooru started as she felt Ganondorf's large, warm hand on the small of her back. "Tell them why you came here."

She cleared her throat, fighting the urge to look down at the floor. She was a warrior, born and bred. Lifting her chin high, she said, "We were there to trade, as always. We had a bag of goods, but that was confiscated." Her fingernails dug into her palms in an effort not to say anything more, or to shoot an accusatory glance at his guards. There had been some good stuff in that bag, too.

Ganondorf, sensing her anger, pressed his palm deeper into her back, causing her to stumble and snap back to the situation at hand. "As you can see," he continued, fighting to keep his voice simultaneously soothing and imperious, "we came in friendship, as we so often have in the years past."

"How would you know? You weren't here," one of the advisors muttered. The Hylian king shushed him, but not before a titter spread across the room, from guards and councilmen alike. Ganondorf cringed, wishing he hadn't been ordered to come alone. He sorely wanted Aveni's counsel.

The Hylian king pursed his lips even tighter and spoke. "The bag of goods has been inspected and seems fitting with her testimony. However, I stand by my decision. You will be allowed to escort these women out of the town without incident, but there will be no further breaches of our trust. You Gerudo shall respect our laws." _Or you will face war. _The king's lips didn't move, but Ganondorf read the threat on his face, and on the twenty or so that stared out at him, pale and round, from behind the throne.

Still, it was better than he had expected. What they would do without the Hylian market he would have to figure out later; for now safe passage back to the desert was enough.

"Your Highness!" A guard burst through the doors, shoving aside the others who tried to restrain him. There was blood on his shoes. "The Gerudo have escaped! They've gone _insane_."

The men-at-arms lining the throne room sprang into action at once, and the advisors all scrambled to their feet, shouting. In the confusion, Ganondorf grabbed Nabooru by the shoulders. "Did you do this?" he demanded.

She shook her head, eyes wide. She had no idea what he was talking about.

Ganondorf didn't look convinced. "What did you tell them to do?" he snarled, shaking her before remembering himself. His hands dropped from her shoulders, but there were angry white marks where his fingers had been. She didn't notice as they slowly turned red, or as the king cried for their arrest in a voice that was high and shrieking.

"I . . . I . . ." Nabooru's eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed. Ganondorf lunged forward to catch her, but the king's guards had finally sprung into action and grabbed him by the upper arms. He was about to fight back when the doors to the throne room flew open and his mother stormed in, flanked by two other Gerudo.

She held one hand up to silence everyone, and somehow it _worked_. He wished that he could command that kind of power. "It's not their fault!" she shouted. "Our people are afflicted by sorcery."

The Hylian king made a noise that was half-amused, half-enraged, though Ganondorf failed to see any humor. "Oh? And how do you know this?"

"We have captured those responsible." She shot a glance at her son, though her expression was inscrutable before adding, "Koume and Kotake have come out of hiding."


	13. Twins

**CHAPTER 7**

Their eyes more or less adjusted to the dark eventually. Zelda began noticing that their tunnel — which was hardly wide enough to accommodate two at a time — branched off into dozens of even smaller paths that snaked away into darkness. Impa said that, back when the well was still over their heads, these had been carefully maintained by the Sheikah, allowing them to travel almost anywhere in Hyrule underground. Over the years, however, the tunnels had fallen into disrepair, and only the one they were walking down now was used with any regularity. "Most of them are too dangerous for us to use," she added. "Or so we're told."

"Not that you'd know anything about that," she replied with a faint smile, remembering how — or more importantly, _where_ — they'd first met.

Sheik eyed one of them as they passed, running his fingers along the rough dirt and stone. "I'll bet they go all sorts of places," he said wistfully.

Jaysia, the only one who didn't seem to have trouble navigating the rocks and clumps of dirt that made up the tunnel floor, pulled Sheik's hand away. "They do not lead you back home," she said. "Get yourself killed if you must, but not when it is our job to see you back safely." Her gaze lingered on Zelda for a few moments, making her squirm, but then she turned back to the front, taking Ryad's arm once more. "Just keep going straight."

The tunnel finally ended, the branching paths becoming fewer and farther between, and their own narrowing until they had to proceed single-file. The ceiling lowered until Sheik and Jaysia's heads were nearly brushing the top. Zelda was finding it difficult to breathe in the increasingly-cramped quarters, and Ryad's breaths were quick and shallow.

Impa, who was directly behind her, put an awkward, but comforting, hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," she said. "We'll be out of here soon enough." She wasn't uncomfortable at all; Sheikah lived underground, so claustrophobia was nonexistent. Though by the way she kept close to Zelda, always maintaining body contact, it seemed that Impa wasn't as unperturbed as she pretended.

Just when they were all starting to worry about the tunnel getting too narrow to proceed, the walls ended in a large wooden door. Jaysia pulled it open and strode through without even a second's hesitation, and Ryad followed her willingly enough. Zelda, however, had to balk. "Are you guys _sure_ you know where you're going?" she asked, straining to see anything in the darkness they had disappeared into.

"I am positive." Jaysia's voice had a strange, echoing quality, as if the room beyond the door was gigantic, but she sounded calm. "We have taken this path hundreds of times."

"I haven't." Ryad sounded a little closer, like maybe he'd taken a step or two back toward the tunnel. "I always turn off before this narrows. You know, where I _thought_ we were headed." For once he'd started to sound a little irritated.

Jaysia laughed; once again, there was not a shred of worry in her voice. "Of course not. I went here with my —" There was a catch in her voice, which would have been almost imperceptible if their ears hadn't been tuned by their blindness — "father. He always liked it because, even though it's slower, it's harder to be followed." She was walking away, her footsteps ringing loud, like whatever floor was behind the entrance was made of something harder than packed earth and roots. "Close the door behind you," she added as her footsteps were swallowed up by the immenseness of the room.

Once she was inside and the door had closed shut with a resonant _clunk, _Zelda realized that it was a little brighter than she'd thought, though no source of light could be found. She could see her hand, if it was right in front of her face (and even then it was a pale gray blur), but beyond that was blackness. She just followed the others' voices. They all kept up a constant stream of chatter as they tried to find their way across the room, because it was better than listening to their footsteps echo in the silence.

The only problem was that it was much more difficult to navigate such a cavernous space than to feel their way along the tunnel. Jaysia, knowing the route, had strode through the center of the room rather than cling to the walls, leaving them lost.

Zelda took a cautious step forward and jostled someone with her shoulder. Wiry hair brushed against her face, and she asked, "Impa, is that you?"

"No, it's me, Sheik."

"Sorry! Can't see a thing —" There was a yelp of fear or pain, and then a _thud. _"What happened?" she cried, flinging her arms out to ward off danger. _WHACK_. "Who was that?" she asked, pulling her arms close to her chest in order to avoid harming anyone else.

"Me!"

"Ryad?"

"Yeah." He sounded annoyed and a little scared, but not hurt.

"Are you okay?"

"I guess. Considering I no longer have pupils. Strong arm."

"Well, you don't really need them. It's pitch black in here." Impa's voice was coming from her right. Out of instinct Zelda reached forward until her fingers found Impa's warm, hard upper arm, and she latched onto it.

"Who's touching me?" Impa demanded.

"Sorry," Zelda said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I guess I'm a little nervous."

Suddenly a rectangle of white light blinded them. Zelda threw her arm over her eyes with a groan and listened to the others as they made similar discontented noises. "We have arrived," Jaysia said, as though the five-minute trek had been as easy as crossing a well-lit room.

"Glad you don't have pupils _now_?" Sheik asked as they staggered toward the light, squinting. Ryad barked out a sarcastic laugh.

They all tumbled out of the black room. "Where are we?" Impa asked, rubbing her eyes with one hand while the other stole down to her hip, where her dagger rested.

The room was made of some sort of white marble that sparkled slightly in the firelight. Looking over her shoulder, Zelda saw that the white stopped immediately at the door frame, and beyond that was the same stone in black; it explained the echoing and the bizarre sound of their footsteps. Only about five feet were illuminated by the room beyond. After that the light was swallowed up by the dark marble.

As she watched, Jaysia _clopped _over to the door and closed it. "We need to make it as difficult as possible for anyone to follow," she explained, "in case any of the guards somehow spotted us."

"Is that likely?" Zelda began to ask, but she was cut off by a gasp of horror.

"_Shit!_" She was pretty sure that was Sheik's voice, but when she started to whirl around to see, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, biting into her collarbone and making her wince.

She was spun back around to face Jaysia, whose thin white face was tight with tension. "I do not want you to see," she insisted. "The others are warriors, they are prepared for it, but you . . ." Her hand was extremely cold, and those _eyes_. . . . Shuddering, Zelda pulled away, ignoring the pain as she slipped free of Jaysia's vise-like fingers that would leave a bruise, twisting her head around at the same time to see whatever it was she wasn't supposed to.

The center of the room was decorated by a raised platform, an altar of sorts — or so she assumed. It looked like the illustrations she'd seen scratched into the salt-stained fisherman's paper that made up all of their books. Once she had pulled a thin paperback off of her mother's shelf, thinking that it might be a primer that she could use to teach Emilia to read. However, it had been filled with one-page mythological stories, gory and gritty, each accompanied by a painstakingly-inked illustration. The one that she had flicked to had been just like what she was looking at now: all white stone, draped with cream-colored cloth that hung maybe a foot off the floor. In the picture Zelda had found, the altar was soaked with puddles of black; in real life, it was red blood that drenched the cloth and smeared across the marble and pooled on the floor. However, what had shocked and horrified her was the long-legged, long-haired maiden that was sprawled across the top of the altar, her hand dangling over the edge and her eyes wide and dead. _The Sacrifice of __Aradvkn_, it had said, preceding a dark tale about Democres, the country that Hyrulians were forbidden to enter, and the dark god that ruled over its misshapen monsters.

The altar was there, the cloth was there, the blood was there. So where was the sacrifice?

And what, exactly, were _they_ doing here?

Ryad had frozen a few feet away from the altar, the blood staining his dark brown boots. Impa and Sheik, unsurprisingly, had both pulled away from the center of the room, keeping near the walls with weapons at hand. Zelda stepped toward Ryad; despite what Jaysia had said about the Sheikah being warriors, he seemed the least able to understand what he was looking at, and though she had no more of an idea what was going on, she was composed enough to know that he should at least get his feet out of the blood before his boots were ruined.

_Why are you worrying about shoes at a time like this? _a small voice in the back of her mind asked despairingly. But it was all she could think of doing, and so she continued forward, twisting her body to the side when she felt — or maybe just imagined — Jaysia's fingers once again brush against her shoulder.

"Zelda, you shouldn't. There's too much to . . ." Jaysia trailed off as the door was flung open.

She'd expected to see a stranger, or several: the guards that had been chasing them, other Sheikah that may also have known about this room's existence and were passing through, whoever had performed this sacrifice come back to clean up. The last person she had ever thought she would see was the future king of Hyrule, still dressed in his filthy smock and smeared with sweat, dirt, and the blood that was steadily dripping from his nose. His gaze traveled over the scene with remarkable serenity, his eyes barely widening as he took in the blood. _He must be in shock, _she thought for a moment, before another question popped into her head: _How in Farore's name did he find us?_

When his eyes landed on her, they brightened with relief. "Zel!" He hurried to her side, obliviously nudging Jaysia to the side, adoring as a puppy and perhaps as stupid. (She felt guilty for the thought as soon as it occurred to her. He wasn't stupid, but clinging to the one familiar face in the room. Still, she supposed she could forgive herself under these bizarre circumstances, since none of them were in their right minds.) "Are you okay?" he asked, his hands fluttering as he considered touching her, then thought better of it.

She nodded, but before she could say anything there was a _click _as the door closed, then the sound of metal grinding on metal. Jaysia smiled at them all, her fingers holding the lock in her fist, and shrugged one pretty white shoulder. "I told you that there was so much to explain," she said, her voice as soft and coolly polite as ever. "No one was giving me a chance." She stepped away from the door, letting the lock fall from her hand and bang against the dark wood. It had been mutilated, crushed in her palm until it was nearly fused to the door in a solid ball of iron. The first thing she wondered was how someone as small and delicate as her had managed to do such a thing.

The second thing she wondered was how they were ever going to get out of there.

Jaysia's attention had shifted to Daphnes. She leaned forward and peered deeply into his eyes. "Do you know my sister?" she asked.

* * *

Almost two hours earlier, Daphnes shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as the wolfos howled. The day was over. "Will you tell me what's going on?" he asked, not very hopeful that she would answer him, seeing as she hadn't yet. Living up to his expectations, she ignored him, cutting through the thinning crowd of people and cuccos silently. There were limits to what he would go through before getting some answers. "Will you at least tell me your name?" he demanded — though he suspected it sounded a little more like begging.

She glanced over her shoulder as they reached the entrance to the Kakariko Graveyard, pausing with one hand on the gate. He tried not to cringe as he saw her face; the scars, which had been hidden under her hair and cloak when he'd first talked to her, were in full view now, tracing angry red lines down her cheek and neck. Now that she was looking at him, seeing fully his exhaustion and his desperation, her face softened. "I'm Jaysia," she said, a little sadly, before pushing open the gate and hurrying over to the Royal Family headstone without checking to see if he was following her. She knew he would.

He didn't have a choice.

The Hyrule royal family had used the same grave for generations — supposedly since the goddesses had created men. Daphnes had never seen it in person, but the books had all described it as a labyrinthine structure that snaked below all the other graves, perhaps for miles. No one was allowed there except the gravediggers and the priests, who brought the royal corpses to their resting place and left as soon as it was accomplished. Most people said it was haunted, the priests said it was sacred, and his mother said it was filthy. All of this, plus the morbid realization that he was going to be buried there someday, had resulted in a fervent desire to never go near it as long as he lived.

Therefore, when Jaysia instructed him to grab part of the tombstone and help her carry it, he was dismayed. "Absolutely not! I will have no part in helping you defile a sacred resting place — _my family's_sacred resting place!" But she simply stared at him while he spluttered, and once he had quieted, said, "If you want to save your friend, you have to."

Once the grave was uncovered (and he hadn't been struck dead by the goddesses), they both stared down into the hole they had revealed. "How do the priests carry the body down?" he asked, searching for stairs or a ramp or anything besides this great black drop.

"There's another entrance, but it's in the castle," Jaysia explained, bouncing on the balls of her feet in agitation. "Just jump."

He repressed his next argument — _but the priests say anyone who disrupts a tomb of the faithful will burst into flames —_ and gritted his teeth before lowering himself as far as he could before dropping. After what felt like a hundred feet, but was probably more like ten or fifteen, he hit the ground, the impact knocking him off his feet. His nose smashed into the stone floor and he tasted blood. Wincing, he hauled himself to his feet and rubbed his nose. "Ow," he moaned, brushing the blood off his upper lip as best he could with his fingers.

At least he wasn't on fire.

Jaysia landed next to him lightly. "You all right?" she asked, her eyes sliding past him to the tunnel beyond without checking to see if he nodded. "This way."

They walked in silence for a long time, feeling themselves descend deeper and deeper underground. Jaysia looked like she was eager to run, but knew that Daphnes wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. To distract her from her frustration, he asked, "Since we have nothing else to do, would it trouble you too much to explain what is going on?" Even when lives were in danger and he was in the grave of his relatives, Daphnes had been conditioned to be polite. Though when she said nothing for a few moments, his nerves began to fray, and he snapped, "For Nayru's sake, say _one_ thing, will you?" Neither of them had brought a torch, relying instead on Jaysia's instincts. Still, even in the darkness he could feel the look of surprise she was giving him, and his face reddened. "It is not much to ask," he mumbled.

"No," she said. "I guess it's not.

"I spent about half of my life here. Not in these graves, exactly" — she had heard his gasp of indignation — "but in the Sheikah Caverns."

"They connect?" This was the first Daphnes had heard of this; for the first time in his life, he realized that there were many secrets that even a prince wasn't privy to, that maybe kings didn't know.

Jaysia laughed, and he could imagine that she almost looked pretty. "I don't know if they always have," she told him, "but they do now." She explained how her mother had fallen in love with a sailor who lived on the islands, and how he had abandoned her soon after she told him that she was pregnant. "I don't understand what she could have seen in some fisherman," she added, "not when she was surrounded by true Sheikah." In her voice Daphnes recognized a hint of envy and something dreamy, something he had heard in the voices of his cousins when they'd discovered the magic of sex. He wondered who she was in love with, and if he was one of the people they were searching for.

"My mother married the only man who would have her: some low-ranking second-cousin who was made bitter by his eyesight. He'd wanted to be an archer, but wasn't good enough. They hardly knew each other, but that kind of thing doesn't always matter. And then we were born."

Daphnes tripped on something that sounded horribly like a bone as it clattered across the floor. "_We?_"

"My sister," she said, taking his elbow and pulling him upright. "Katia."


	14. Twins Part II

Daphnes swallowed hard as he stared into the eyes of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. One thick curl of blue hair — it was much darker than Jaysia's — rolled languidly off her forehead and dangled in front of one eye, tickling his cheek. Her face was Jaysia's, only perfect; he could see how they would be fooled. But he knew what to look for.

_"Aside from the obvious differences, my sister has a tiny birthmark below her left eye. It's hidden by her eyelashes most of the time, but if you get close enough, you'll see it — a tiny pink circle."_

A tiny pink circle. There it was.

So this was Katia.

Finding the courage to speak, he lifted his chin, never taking his gaze off of hers — _"Her pupils will look too small all the time, and she will always__ squint" _— and making a mental tally of everything Jaysia had told her. "Yes," he said, fighting to keep his voice from trembling. _"Don't let her know that she scares you. She will, but you have to be calm." _"Your sister's name is Jaysia."

Out of the corner of his eye, Daphnes noticed the short guy next to Zelda shake his head. _Her_ blue eyes never left his, though, and the corners of her mouth turned up slowly. "Very good," she said, sounding genuinely pleased. "What a smart boy you are."

He wanted nothing more than to grab Zelda and pull her to safety, to leave the fighting to Jaysia and the other Sheikah, who at least knew what they were doing. He didn't belong here. But he quashed those feelings, knowing that they wouldn't keep him calm, and he had to be calm. So instead he returned her smile (albeit weakly) and replied, "Thank you, ma'am," as though his knees weren't locked to keep from shaking.

"What are you talking about?" the short guy demanded, breaking the spell. Katia blinked and stepped back.

"Ryad, I am afraid I owe you an apology. All of you, really." She glanced back at Daphnes with a hint of a smile, like they were conspirators. "Well, not _you_." He kept his face blank while she explained what he already knew: her name was really Katia, she was the twin sister of their friend, and she'd been lying to them this whole time ("this whole time" being a few hours for Zelda and almost eight years for the others). "I had no choice," she finished. "If Jaysia had simply let me control her like I'd wanted, I would have been able to ignore Katia and go on like nothing had happened." She paused for a second. "I suppose I still would have had to lie to you, but it would have been a much simpler fib."

"Control?" Zelda turned to Daphnes, and he took the opportunity to pull her closer to him and away from Katia. "What's going on? I thought she _was_ Katia."

Impa and Sheik stepped forward, startling him; Jaysia had told him that she'd seen them with Zelda and the other two, but he'd forgotten all about them. Much like the Sheikah he'd observed in his father's court, they seemed to have decided to wait and absorb everything they could before taking any sort of action. "She's insane," Sheik said with a surprisingly casual shrug. "That's the only explanation."

Daphnes had to be calm. "She's not," he said, echoing what Jaysia had explained earlier. "I mean, she might be, but it's more than that." _Be calm, be calm, be calm, _he thought to himself as all eyes — including Katia's terrifying ones — returned to him.

"Another correct." Katia seemed once again both amused and pleased. "I'll overlook that 'she might be insane' remark if you can do it again." She put her hands on her hips and leaned toward him expectantly. "What did my big sister tell you I am?"

"A shade," he replied, ignoring how Zelda jerked like she'd been pinched and Impa and Sheik exchanged wary glances. _"You have to be calm," _he heard again, as Ryad let out a cry of horror and staggered away from the shade, as Impa raised her dagger but Sheik and Zelda still looked incredulous.

_"You have to be calm or she will tear you apart."_

* * *

"Katia killed our mother," Jaysia said, leading Daphnes further into the darkness of the royal tomb. "Not on purpose, of course, but in childbirth. I was born first, with no problems. I think she always resented me a little for that. Especially considering Mother's husband blamed my sister."

"Oh." Daphnes' mother had almost died giving birth to him, and afterward she'd never been able to have another child. For as long as he could remember, whenever his mother's maidservants went into labor, she would give them her own bed and take extreme care of them and the baby until the healer decreed them both fit to go home. It was a rare fit of compassion that only lasted as long as the delivery and recovery, and until he was about seven or eight, she would shock him again by drawing him up to her chest and crying into the top of his head. Once he was too large to fit into her lap, he would lurk outside her bedroom door and listen to her sobs. It wasn't hard for him to imagine how someone might feel resentful in the face of that kind of grief and bitterness.

Jaysia grabbed his hand, pulling him around a corner that was almost imperceptible in the dark and saving him another bloody nose. She seemed to be warming up to him. "Our 'father' was not an awful man, but the humiliation of raising a stranger's bastards, without even the mother around to help . . . and having Katia there to blame made it easier for him, I guess. He locked her away, in a room deep in the heart of the Sheikah Caverns that had long been out of use."

"I assume that is where we are headed," he said. Was it his imagination, or was it getting easier to see?

"Yes," she replied grimly. "The room had once been for sacrifices to the goddesses, but that barbaric tradition was out of practice before we were born. Mother's husband felt that the altar would make an acceptable bed, and no one would stumble on her in there. Finding her a place to live, and ordering me to bring her food daily — that was all the fatherly concern he was willing to show her. He said if he ever saw her face again he would kill her." She stopped in front of a large wooden door, pressing her palm flat against the iron handle for a moment. "For almost twenty years, the sacrificial chamber and the tunnels around it — including this tomb — were her whole world, and I was the only person in it. If she's gone anywhere, it'll be there." She pushed open the door, leading them deeper into the grave.

As soon as he'd stepped inside, a weathered and wrinkled hand snatched his arm. He leapt back, breaking its grip (and its wrist) with a cry of horror. "What _was that_?" he demanded, plucking the hand off of him and flinging it across the room like it had burned him.

"Those are your ancestors," she said. "When Katia 'found' a way from the caverns to this grave, I was terrified, too." The way she said "found" made Daphnes think that Jaysia's little sister had created an entrance. It wasn't that surprising. She'd had nothing but time, after all.

The room was covered in a thick green bilious-looking fluid that smoked and bubbled, with only a thin stone walkway snaking through it. Walking around, even standing on top of the bile, were corpses. They were tall, brown, and hunched, looking for all the world like the mummies he'd read about in his books on Ryian culture. "How?" he managed, watching as one of them shambled toward him.

"They're called re-deads, according to Katia. I don't know if she made that up or if she read about them."

"Read?"

She looked at him, seeming offended. "I brought her books," she said, like that should have been obvious. "Besides, her room was filled with them. They were all about sacrifice and were deemed too disturbing for the library. She could read just fine."

"But now . . ." He could only imagine how a girl would turn out if she spent her whole life isolated, hated by her father, wracked with guilt and resentment and loneliness, reading and rereading books of gore and death in a room where such things had taken place. "She is insane, is she not? That is why we are going after her."

She sighed, but was distracted as one of the re-deads let out a paralyzing shriek. As soon as they could move, she took his arm and hurried him across the room, bursting through the door into the one beyond.

Daphnes ducked as bats flew above their heads. "Where are we now?" he asked, struggling to read the stone that adorned the center of the room. The print was tiny and the light dim, so it was difficult. "'The sun song' —"

Mentioning their hunt had reawakened Jaysia's sense of urgency, and she ignored him as she made her way to yet another door, forcing him to run after her or be left behind. A quick "hurry!" was all she spared him, but he wasn't going to be left without answers, not when she'd finally started to explain what was going on.

"Wait!" he panted, grabbing her arm and forcing her to a brisk walk. Even that concession was enough to irritate her, but she knew better than to abandon him. "What exactly are we going to find when we get to her?"

* * *

Zelda had heard of shades before, but that had been years ago. Her mother had told her they were evil spirits that would take over her body if she didn't go to bed on time; it was widely believed that they were nothing more than an old wives' tale. But Daphnes' grim expression and the smile that spread across Jaysia's — no, _Katia_ was her name — face was enough to make her suspicious.

She could tell that Impa and Sheik felt the same way, though Ryad still looked slightly dazed. All of them drew closer together, forming a clump in the center of the room.

Katia didn't seem to notice. "You are certainly saving me quite a lot of explanation," she told Daphnes, whose face remained stony. "Anything else you would like to add?"

Somehow Daphnes had taken over the conversation. All eyes were on him, and no one dared to speak until he did. Zelda had known him long enough to know that he wouldn't be comfortable with that duty, but she was surprised by how calm he was, and how confidently he said, "Actually, I would like to understand something."

That caught Katia off-guard as well, but she recovered quickly. "Of course," she purred. "I think it is the least I could do, considering all the trouble you have spared me."

"Where did you come from?"

The question sparked something in Zelda's mind. Before she could stop herself she said, "Yeah, shades are supposed to come from the islands near Democres." Piquo had never had any reports of shade activity, but sailors would mention strange stories of possession from the lower islands, the ones that were a little too close to the shadowy, dark land south of Hyrule.

Katia finally seemed to notice someone besides Daphnes, and Zelda felt a chill as those eyes met hers. "Where are you from?" she asked, her gaze intense and almost uncertain.

Zelda told her, trying to follow Daphnes' lead and speak as confidently as possible. Katia's eyes lit up with recognition. "You're the little girl," she breathed, and in that moment Zelda knew she hadn't been mistaken. Somehow, she made the shade uncomfortable, maybe even nervous. "How did you find me?" Zelda glanced at the others and gathered from their blank expressions that they had no more idea what was going on than she did. But that didn't matter, as Katia was momentarily lost in herself and barely seemed to register that anyone else was in the room. "I took your brother," she insisted, "but you did not know that. No one did."

Daphnes had taken advantage of Katia's distraction and was whispering urgently in her ear, but she couldn't understand what he was saying. Part of her knew that she should listen to his conversation with the others and form a plan of escape, but she couldn't. "What?" she asked the shade instead, feeling like she was standing underwater. "What did you do to Naran?"

Katia looked surprised. "You do not know? But I thought you had come to take your revenge. Why else would you be here, with these people, if not to punish me?"

A faint glimmer of memory arose in her mind: something her mother had told her when she was small enough to still fit on her lap. _"You must be careful not to be left alone, Zelda," _her mother had instructed, running a brush through her long hair until it shone like spun gold._ "Shades take over the bodies of babies more than anyone else."_

_"I'm not a baby," _Zelda had muttered, trying to wriggle free from her mom's embrace._ "And everyone knows shades aren't real."_

_"You can never be too careful."_

An infant was the perfect host for a shade. It was too weak to put up much of a defense, its terrified wailing wouldn't seem abnormal, and the shade would have years to mold the growing child to be an ideal receptacle for it to walk around in. Zelda's parents had often laughed about what a loud child Naran had been, but after his first few years he had become an angel, and no one bothered to look twice at him. Not his parents, and certainly not his older sister, who had always prized herself for keeping such a careful watch over her little brother — the only person, she sometimes thought, that she really loved. Her eyes filled with tears of pity, but she refused to look away from the monster who had nearly ruined Naran's life.

Daphnes' hand closed around her arm, perhaps reading something unpleasant in her expression. He was right to keep her away. If she'd had _any_ inkling of what had been going on . . . any clue as to the hell her brilliant — if rather quiet — brother had been going through. . . .

Katia was right to be afraid.

"What are you doing here, then?" she finally asked, trying and failing to unclench her jaw enough to speak properly.

The shade once again seemed surprised by her question. "He forced me out," she replied, as though that should have been obvious. "I do not know where he found the strength, but he did. I had to leave."

This also stirred something up from the depths of her memory. She had been reading _A Piquo Compendium_, the official history of the island that had been penned by hundreds of hands and was more filled with fishing tips and anecdotes than actual history. It was a hefty tome for a girl who was not quite ten, and she was concentrating as hard as possible to decipher the scrawled words. Naran had slipped into their room, bouncing on the balls of his feet and beaming. _"Zel!" _he'd cried, leaping onto her bed with a _thud_ that had knocked the book off of her lap. She'd glared at him, but the joy on his small pink face was so unlike his normal solemnity that she pushed aside her impatience. _"What's going on with you?" _she'd asked instead, cupping her hands over her knees and observing how strangely giddy he looked.

Naran had snuggled into her arms, folding his gangly limbs so that he could fit. _"There was a problem," _was all he said, _"but it's fixed." _Zelda had noticed how the corners of his mouth had twitched, as if he'd wanted to say more, but she ignored it as she pressed her face into the soft blond fluff of his hair and crushed him against her still-bony chest. She'd assumed at the time that he had been bullied and rescued himself, but now. . . .

She shook her head to clear it of these memories and turned one ear to Daphnes, who was frantically asking if she'd heard a goddess-damned word he'd said. She shook her head slightly, and he groaned before repeating his instructions.

Now someone else had taken over the confrontation with the shade. "But why Jaysia?" Ryad demanded, the question almost a wail.

"I did nothing to Jaysia. She was too old, too strong. But I was desperate enough to try, and though she failed to be an acceptable host, she inadvertently led me to her sister." A smile touched Katia's beautiful lips, and once again she was in her own little world. "Katia was nothing like Jaysia. She was isolated and miserable, without anything but her once-a-day visits from her sister to keep her entertained, and even those were growing shorter as Jaysia became closer to her friends and boyfriend. She was just lonely and curious enough to let me in, and nowhere near strong enough to force me out again. She was a real _osdekvan._" She giggled, and for the first time Zelda began to suspect that there was something she wasn't quite grasping about Katia.

Something seemed wrong.

* * *

"You never answered my question," Daphnes complained. His legs were aching and his nose throbbed, but he thought they were close to their destination, as the blackness was receding with agonizing slowness.

"I think I've answered enough," Jaysia growled, and he thought he caught a glimpse of pain in her expression. It occurred to him that reliving her sister's possession was not exactly easy for her.

He ducked his head apologetically as he said, "Yes, but I must know whether or not this monster — or your sister — is insane. If she will do anything unpredictable or drastic." What he really wanted to say hung in the air between them: _If she will hurt Zelda._

The tunnel had lightened to the point where he could almost see his hand in front of his face by the time she replied. "I don't know. I only talked to her once after she was taken, when she banished me and took over my life." There was a ragged gasp, and he saw the faint outline of her head as she looked down. "I asked if I could say goodbye to Ryad, and she told me not to be stupid. She rubbed this burning potion in my hair until it wasn't as dark a blue, and then poured some of it on my face to make sure no one would ever recognize me. For good measure." She spat the words, rubbing the side of her face where the burn scars were splashed. "That's when I first really believed that she wasn't my sister anymore, that the shade had somehow found her after giving up on me. Katia would never . . ." The gasp became a sob, and Daphnes froze. He was utterly unprepared to deal with an upset woman, and so he patted her shoulder awkwardly, muttering "There, there" as though that statement meant anything.

Luckily, this seemed to be just what she needed, as she jerked out from under his hand and straightened. "She took me to the dock and put me on a boat to one of the islands," she continued; aside from a few sniffles, it was as though nothing had happened. "But as soon as it landed I returned to Hyrule. I couldn't leave Katia. I've been following her since then. She acts pretty normal most of the time, but every once in a while she would say something weird, something that only Katia would know or that didn't make sense at all. I remember she once told Ryad that he had 'a demon's physique without the ugliness.' But otherwise she didn't mess up, and no one wondered.

"She saved her real breakdowns for when she was alone. Sometimes she would start talking to herself — she didn't even care if anyone could hear her or not — and it was like she didn't know whether she was me or Katia or a monster. She would say the most bizarre, disjointed things, or just sit in silence for hours, staring at nothing.. She would cut out pictures of the sacrifices from Katia's books and pin them to the inside of her clothes, or hide them under her pillow. Once I heard her talking to herself in a weird language that sounded more like gargling than words, like maybe she was praying."

They reached a door, and Jaysia pressed her hand against it, taking a deep breath. "There's one room beyond this, and then we're there," she said. She lowered herself to the floor and held out a hand to help Daphnes. "I don't know if Katia turned the shade crazy, or if this is typical demon behavior, but either way we need a plan, because I think I know what she's going to do."

* * *

Zelda watched as Katia reached into her cloak, pulling a long, serrated knife from it that looked several decades old. "This has been with me since I was young," she said, rubbing the spine of the knife tenderly. "I found it in this very room, under that altar. It cut me a few times before I figured out how to use it." Her eyes traveled over them, a slow smile spreading across her face. "I have truly enjoyed this time spent with you. It is always pleasant to relive old memories, but I am afraid I have stalled you all for long enough. The moon should be high enough now."

"High enough for what?" Zelda asked. Her mind was still reeling from everything the shade and Daphnes had told her, and she needed a few seconds to get her bearings again.

Katia stroked Zelda's cheek with her free hand, gripping her jaw when she tried to pull away. "I was extremely fortunate to happen upon Katia," she said. "Without her I might have died. The great god _Aradvkn _has blessed me with this fortune, and I must repay him with the strength he needs." Before anyone could react, her hand clamped down on Zelda's jaw hard enough to make her scream, pulling her until their bodies were pressed up against each other. Only the blade was between them. "I need to give him blood, and that cucco blood over there did not work." She shrugged, her dress sliding off her shoulder to reveal gorgeous milky skin. "So I am forced to do this the hard way."

Daphnes had warned her that something like this might happen — probably _would_ happen. "Trust me," he'd whispered, his gray eyes warm and bright enough that she'd felt like she could.

They needed her at her most frantic, her most uncontrollable.

Her most vulnerable, Daphnes hoped.

_Please, _Zelda thought, whimpering from the pain in her jawbone. _Please just say it. Please let it be time._

But no one spoke or even moved as Katia's knife pressed between her ribs, then slid up to her throat. Katia stared into her eyes, and Zelda wondered how she had ever thought that cold blue stare was normal or sane. Unable to stop herself, she let out a high, keening whine that was part pain and mostly terror. _Please, Daphnes, please save me please help please please say it say it SAY IT —_

"_Guh fha sldof akkiih akkiih," _the shade whispered, her eyes closing in religious ecstasy and her knife drawing small dots of blood as she began to push it into Zelda's neck. "_Guh fha sld —"_

"NOW!"


	15. Blood

**CHAPTER 8**

Sheik had often wondered how he would react in a catastrophe. He'd always pictured himself at the center of the fray, killing enemies — in his imagination, they were always Gerudo, all identical with cold black eyes and faces hidden by masks — left and right. He would get wounded, something that would leave a sexy scar, maybe, and Impa would nurse him back to health, unable to hide her grudging admiration at what an amazing warrior he was.

The reality was that his first instinct was to kick at the door until either the wood or his legs gave way, even though he would surely be crushed in Katia's monstrous grip before he made it across the room. _Imp's right, _he thought, his eyes traveling over the room with a kind of dull shock. _I'm really not as good at this as I thought._

He glanced at Impa, who was staring straight ahead as what looked like her former best friend attempted to slice and dice her current one. Her lips were pressed in a thin line and her hands clenched into fists, the only indication that she was paying attention to the scene in front of her. Sheik was trying to feel fear, anger, _something_, but the only emotion he could muster was guilt at not being more freaked out. _It's just shock_, he told himself. _Pretty soon reality will kick in, and then you'll figure out how to get everyone out of this. You just have to wait for the prince to give the word._

Speaking of His Highness, Sheik could not eliminate the nagging doubts about what Daphnes was doing here and how he fit into this whole scenario. Treasonous as it was to suspect one of the royal family of disloyalty, he still couldn't make it add up, and he hated that. But before he had time to say as much — say anything at all — he was distracted by a scream of horror.

Katia had stepped away from Zelda, wrapping one iron-hard hand around Ryad's neck and lifting him up into the air. He kicked wildly, trying to shake her off. Ignoring him, she turned her attention fully on Sheik for the first time, her lips pursing into a pout that was still beautiful even in this hideous situation. "Sheik," she said, and immediately the numbness he'd been feeling disappeared, leaving behind an icy horror that froze him just as surely as if her hand was clenched around his own throat. Ryad went limp, and Katia discarded him without a second glance. She leaned close enough that their noses were touching. "I know what you are planning. You think I must be lying, as _y__ou_ do not even know. _But I do_." With a laugh that made his blood run cold, she pulled back, letting him see the room spinning, just quick enough that the colors ran together. "Why not join me? My Lord would surely rather have servants than sacrifices. If you choose to help me, I will be waiting outside." She gave him a casual wave, then slipped through the door, turning a silver knob that was somehow undamaged.

Sheik, deciding that this was some sort of stressed-based hallucination and it was best to just go with it, stood up straight and called after her. "You know I'm not going anywhere with you, right?"

She sighed. "I suppose I expected that," she said, shaking her head and pretending to look mournful. "Oh, well. Just stay in here for as long as you can tolerate it." She flicked her hand, and the room increased its speed. With a yelp of surprise he staggered to his knees, pressing his palms flat against the marble floor to keep his chin from smashing into the ground. He managed to hold this position for approximately five seconds before the force of the spinning twisted his arms to the side, knocking him onto his side and sliding him away from the center of the room until something sharp jabbed into his back. Not bothering to notice that Ryad's body had somehow disappeared, he turned over and wrapped his arms around the altar, which was somehow pristine and white. _This is not your hallucination, _he thought, hearing Impa's voice instead of his own. _It's gotta be the shade, because y__ou're not creative enough to come up with this._

Finally everything went still. Once he felt somewhat normal again, he groaned and climbed to his knees. "Was that it?" he mumbled, trying to make his eyes focus on a single spot on the floor. "That was noth —"

A drop of something thick and red landed exactly where he was staring. Before he could do anything more than stare dumbly at it, three more fell in quick succession, pattering across his fingers. He leaned forward to confirm that it was, in fact, blood, and his head bumped against something soft and wet. He ran his hand over his hair and hat, and it came back sticky with blood.

_Correction: You're not _sick _enough to come up with this._

He tilted his head back, steeling himself against whatever horror the shade had concocted for him. As long as he stayed in the room, she was going to torture him. Hopefully, though, that meant he was winning, because whatever was outside the door could not be good. "Listen, I don't know what you're thinking, but I don't scare eas —" The words died in his mouth as he saw first the red-stained bandages which wrapped around otherwise-bare feet and snaked up legs that he'd always wanted to be more muscular, up the red eye that was as familiar to him as his own reflection. . . . His gaze stopped at that eye, because it was soaked a brownish-red, and he did _not _want to see where that drying blood came from.

The man leaned over him, his breath rancid with the stench of death. One hand brushed under his chin, forcing his head up with a deceptively light touch, until Sheik had seen the gore that dribbled down this man's neck and chest, that was clotting on one of Sheik's favorite shirts. "Hello," he said, his voice a whisper that came through dry, white lips. The fact that he could talk at all was impressive, considering his brains were congealing amid bits of bone from a head injury that had caved almost half of his skull in.

Sheik was face-to-face with his own shattered corpse. He opened his mouth but nothing came out; out of everything he'd imagined Katia would throw at him, he hadn't pictured anything like _this_.

Another hand on his arm made him jump. This one was mutilated, flaps of skin dangling to reveal ropy purplish muscles. And because this was his nightmare, he knew who it was without even turning around, before she said a word in that achingly familiar voice:

"Sheik." The hand squeezed his forearm, blood pouring out with the movement to drench his shirt.

He swallowed hard and stood up, turning to see her as he spoke. "Hi, Imp."

* * *

Impa had been waiting for Daphnes' call, trying everything in her power to keep from attacking Katia and pulling Zelda to safety — suicidal, she knew. Nothing could break that girl's grip as long as the monster was inside her, and the only way to try and get her out was by waiting for the signal and hoping that Daphnes and Jaysia knew what they were doing.

Providing, of course, Jaysia could even get through the door. When she'd tried to suggest that to the prince, he'd grimaced and whispered that they were all dead if she couldn't get that door open, so what was the point in worrying about it?

He'd had a point. She moved her head imperceptibly to watch Daphnes, who was listening to Katia ramble with his eyes darting from the door to the knife. The poor guy looked like he wanted to pass out or start screaming, but to his credit his chin was high and his eyes sharp and clear. Not like Ryad, who was nearly catatonic with grief and shock, or Sheik, who didn't even seem aware of what was going on. She nudged him, but got no response; his eyes remained glued onto Katia, but there was no life in them. She wanted to ask Daphnes what they should do, but Katia seemed to be tiring of toying with Zelda and began to chant in earnest.

Whatever was wrong with her friend — and she suspected that the shade had everything to do with it — he'd have to deal with it himself.

* * *

There was no way this bleeding, shuddering monster was Impa. No way. No matter what his eyes told him, no matter that her hand was still pumping hot blood down his arm and sides, it was simply impossible that any of this could be happening.

Whether it was or wasn't was irrelevant, though. In this room, all of it was real.

Impa's red eyes were bloodshot, and there were bruises and deep scratches all over her face. Her bottom lip was cut almost in half, a thick line of blood painting her chin crimson. One eye was black and blue, swollen completely shut. It twitched as she tried to open it. Her nose was unrecognizable, a mutilated lump of torn skin and cartilage. It looked like she had taken a Moblin club to the face, one of the ones that had shards of glass and pottery embedded in the heavy wood. Her fingers reached up at his cheek; they trembled, and the dangling skin slapped gently against his chin. He staggered back, a wave of revulsion washing over him, only to bump into the other Sheik. His eyes squeezed shut and he pressed himself back against the altar. "What do you want?" he moaned, not wanting to see either of them ever again.

The other Sheik, the destroyed copy of himself, held out a hand, waiting patiently until Sheik opened his eyes to see it. His fingernails were stained red, and the bandages he wore around his fingers were soaked through. "You."

Impa came up to stand behind the copy. She nodded, and the movement sent more blood — how could there be so much? — from a gash under her chin that he hadn't noticed before. It opened a gruesome smile across her neck, and she took his hand in both of hers, pressing it against the wound. He ran his fingers unthinkingly over her torn throat to her bruised cheek, caressing her face and lips, his disgust forgotten in pity. She held his hand and kissed his fingers.

The copy caught hold of his free hand. He kissed it as well, a smirk that was both mocking and sad twisting his lips, then held it up to his skull. As he touched what remained of the copy's brain, a dim echo of pain shot through Sheik's own head, and for a moment he was frozen, his fingers coated in gore and held captive by the two most horrifying monsters imaginable.

Something snapped. Sheik staggered away from them both, his breath coming in ragged, whistling gasps. The two corpses looked at each other, then sat down on the ground with a sickeningly wet _plop!_, causing more blood to spread across the floor.

He put his head in his hands, feeling their eyes boring into him. They didn't speak; they didn't have to. "Does it have to be both of you?" he mumbled into his hands. Suddenly he felt a thousand years old and just desperate for it to _end, _even if that meant going through to door and facing whatever horrifying death (or worse) the shade had in store for him.

"No." Between the two of them, they could hardly make enough sound for one person, but it didn't matter. He'd heard, and he understood.

Lifting his head out of his hands, he looked squarely at Impa, ignoring her shredded throat, her bruised and bleeding face, the awful nothingness in her gaze. Placing one hand in the tangled, sticky mass that was her hair, he pulled her close, pressing his forehead against hers and kissing the tip of her ruined nose gingerly. The light returned to her eyes, and he felt a stabbing pain in his hand; looking down, he saw that several cuts had emerged on the previously-whole skin, identical to the ones on his copy.

For a moment he and the copy stared at their hands, then at each other. Sheik smiled ruefully, and the chapped lips of the corpse twitched to match. "So that's how it has to be," he said, and it nodded. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "All right, then." He pressed Impa firmly against himself, kissing her mouth and feeling the skin of her lips heal itself under his own deteriorating ones. The pain in his hands grew worse, and he could feel a stirring — nothing more than discomfort, for now — in the back of his skull. Part of him wanted to stop, but he knew that he had no other choice. As his head exploded into white-hot pain, he thrust his tongue into Impa's whole, healthy mouth to keep himself from screaming or pulling away. He could hear himself whimpering, but was powerless to stop it, and after a few seconds he didn't notice or care what noises he made.

The last thing he was aware of was a final glimpse of the two ghosts — if that was what they were. Impa was her beautiful self, her eyes still closed and enjoying the kiss as though she couldn't tell what was happening to him. The copy of himself was perfectly healed, too, his clothes spotless and his expression one of exasperated affection.

He shook his head at Sheik, and everything disappeared in a blaze of agony.

* * *

"Now!" Daphnes shouted.

Sheik's eyes flew open. He was okay, he really was. Impa, too. For a second he could only stare at her, the fierce determination in her expression, the lithe body that he had never fully appreciated. Sure, he'd always thought she was gorgeous, but unscathed, unbroken . . . she was a work of art.

Almost before he could process where he was, everything leapt into a flurry of activity. Impa leapt at Katia, her long knives already drawn and ready. Zelda crumpled to the ground, pulling Katia into a more vulnerable position and hurrying to safety. Ryad waited at Impa's left side; Zelda and Daphnes, who were by far the weakest fighters, were supposed to hover around the periphery and do whatever they could to help (which really meant retrieving lost weapons and staying out of the Sheikahs' way). There was an empty space to Impa's right, where Sheik was supposed to be helping her.

He tossed two knives to Daphnes. "Cover for me!" he shouted, and sprinted for the door without waiting for an answer.

Jaysia hadn't counted on the door being impossible to open, and so neither had Daphnes. Someone had to break it open or they were all dead. Luckily, he knew that there was something in the room that could do the job, even if he had no idea what that something was. He scanned the walls, searching for anything that would be heavy enough to crack his skull open. If it could smash through bone, it could definitely make kindling of that door. . . . Finally he spotted a large golden chest in the corner of the room, half-buried under a white silk sheet. He had no way to open it — nor did he have time — but he assumed it was some sort of urn or religious relic that had long been forgotten. In any case, it would work.

The door was shaking on its hinges, but wouldn't budge. Sheik yelled, "Stay back!" and barely waited before swinging the chest as hard as he could. There was a loud _crack! _and a spiderweb of fractures appeared in the wood. He swung it once more, and the door gave way, revealing a hole the size of his head. Two lily-white arms burst through the gap, clawing at the wood until the break was large enough for the girl to fit her head and shoulders through.

"Help me!" she snapped, and he pulled her through the hole with minimal lacerations, hiding his shock at her scarred face as well as he could. The second her feet touched the ground, she ran for the center of the room, where his four friends were circled around Katia, each lunging forward and attacking, then leaping out of the way before she could retaliate.

As Jaysia appeared, everyone else fell back. "Where were you?" Impa hissed, their eyes on the twins.

He jerked his chin towards Jaysia. "Getting reinforcements."

"I thought you'd abandoned me."

The two girls were staring at each other, frozen; Sheik assumed that he had a second and turned to her. "Like I'd abandon you, Imp," he said, wiping blood from a cut on her cheek with his knuckles.

Impa's eyes widened, and a hint of color flushed her cheeks. "I know," she said, sounding a little defensive, and turned her gaze back to the problem at hand.

Jaysia and Katia were still in their standoff. Katia smiled, mocking her sister's disfigurement with her own perfect face. "It took you long enough, dear sister," she said with a light, airy laugh. "If you had waited any longer, that girl's pretty neck would be gushing blood _all_ over this altar."

Jaysia's face tightened, her jaw clenching and her eyes narrowing. "You're not my sister," she snarled. "And how —"

Katia shook her head with another giggle. "Shades cannot read minds or predict the future, silly. I just know _you_." Her expression was both amused and pitying as she added, "Did you really expect me to believe you would send _that_ little ball of fluff to fight your battles for you? No offense, sweetie," she called to Daphnes, "but I knew that she would not let you come here without being close behind. I mean, we _are_ sisters, for _Aradvkn_'s sake." Suddenly she tapped each of her temples and her chin, forming an upside-down triangle. "Apologies, Lord — how _dare_ you attack a praying woman?" she snarled, as Jaysia took advantage of her sister's distraction to lunge. The two girls were at once a blur of flashing blades and hair and limbs.

As soon as they were occupied, the rest of them returned to their circle formation, though only Sheik and Impa were able to attack without accidentally hitting Jaysia instead of Katia; Ryad stared in shock at his girlfriend, who looked nothing like he'd remembered, and Daphnes and Zelda focused most of their attention on staying out of the way.

"What do we do?" Zelda asked, watching helplessly as Impa snatched a handful of Katia's hair, only to have her captive twist away.

"We remove the shade from Katia, then escape," Daphnes said.

"Is that even possible?"

He didn't answer; he just inspected one of Sheik's knives before handing it to Zelda. "I doubt it," he murmured finally.

"That's what I thought. Does this mean we have to —"

"I fail to see any way around it."

"Come on." She took his hand, not even pretending that they were important to the battle, and grabbed the one other useless person, Ryad, by the elbow. "Daphnes says we have to kill Katia," she whispered to them.

"Jaysia will attempt to stop us," the prince cautioned. They both turned to Ryad to see how much of this he was absorbing.

"You want me to kill my girlfriend?" Ryad's brown eyes were wide and blank. Zelda felt bad for him; though he'd had the same training as Impa and Sheik, he seemed like the kind of person who would enjoy farming or owning a shop rather than fighting, and he seemed utterly unprepared for this. _Then again, Daphnes adapted, _a pitiless and practical voice muttered in the back of her mind. She watched him explain to Ryad that Jaysia was really the girl he loved — no matter how scarred she was — with ridiculous patience, and felt a rush of warmth fill her. It was part pride at his maturity, and part something else that she did not want or have time to define. _He'll be a great king._

"We need to warn Impa and Sheik," Daphnes whispered, once he had gotten Ryad to shakily agree that Katia was not his girlfriend, and that he would do anything to save the _real _Jaysia, "but I do not wish to leave Jaysia alone to fight this monster. It might kill her."

Zelda opened her mouth to agree, but was cut off as the fighting stopped. Once again everyone was frozen: Impa had Katia's thick navy hair wrapped around one hand and held a knife to her throat with the other. Sheik had smashed open the golden chest and drawn a beautiful brass dagger from it, which he had pointed at Katia's chest. Not that it was really necessary; even with the shade's powers, she was almost too exhausted to stand, and Jaysia's sword was dangling uselessly from her fingertips. Ryad scurried to Jaysia, drawing her against his side and burying his face in her hair.

"Well?" Impa demanded. "What now?"

"Now's your chance," Zelda muttered, elbowing Daphnes forward. He shot her a quick, panicked look, then shook his head.

"I believe," he said, meeting Jaysia's gaze without fear, "that we have no choice but to kill her."

* * *

A/N: Keep an eye out for the second half of this chapter!


	16. Blood Part II

"Absolutely not," Jaysia said immediately, disentangling herself from Ryad and shooting Daphnes a look of desperation and fury. "You can't expect me to have come this far only to kill my sister."

"I thought I was not your sister," Katia said coldly. "You cannot keep changing your mind, or I shall suffer severe psychological trauma."

_Too late. _None of them said the words, but it was clear that they were all thinking it. Jaysia dragged them back to the issue at hand: "I brought you here to help me _save _her, not kill her!" she spat at Daphnes.

"And if I thought it were possible to save her, I would," he replied with a calm that visibly infuriated Jaysia. "But I do not see how it can be done."

She shoved away Ryad, who was trying to get a better look at her scars, and stalked forward until her nose was almost touching Daphnes'. "What do you know about it?!" she demanded.

He lifted his chin; Zelda was perhaps the only one who knew him well enough to see how nervous this whole situation made him, but he kept himself remarkably cool. "I have read a great deal about the various monsters of Hyrule, even the supposedly imaginary ones. Shades have been around for centuries, and there is a great deal recorded about them."

"And _all _the books you've read say the host must be killed?" Despite the harshness of her expression, Jaysia's voice was hollow, like she knew what the answer would be.

"Every one."

For a moment she seemed lost, but then her eyes lit up. "Even these?" She waved a hand around the room, which was littered with giant tomes covered in a heavy layer of dust and shoved into the corner.

Watching her suspiciously, Daphnes stepped away from the circle and picked one up, wiping off the leather cover and pulling it open. "I have never seen these before," he said, turning the yellowed pages with interest.

"Most of them are in Democren, and the rest are some ancient form of Hylian. I could never read them."

"My understanding of ancient languages is far from excellent, but this . . ." Despite the horrors of that afternoon, despite the bloodshed, he found himself engrossed. "'_The great Lord Aradvkn be with you,_'" he read. "'_Please join us in cursing the golden Goddesses._' This seems to be some sort of script for a worship service. But the Democrens almost uniformly worship Aradvkn, and everyone knows he is the goddesses' brother. As far as any written history that I have read is concerned, there is no bad blood between any of the holy siblings." He snapped the book shut. "This appears to be the text of a fringe cult," he said dismissively, setting it on the ground. "Fascinating, yes, but not particularly helpful."_  
_

"Then find another one," Jaysia snapped. "Read every damn book in this room until you find a way to cure my sister!"

"Seriously?" Impa asked. "How long do you expect us to wait here while you send the prince on this wild cuckoo chase?"

Jaysia knelt down and picked up her sword, pointing it at Impa in case she attempted to slice Katia's throat then and there. "We're not going anywhere, are we?" She lowered the sword until it was touching Katia's nose. "_She _certainly isn't."

"Put the sword down, Jaysia," Sheik commanded; he didn't like that the girl's first instinct was to point it at Impa, especially considering the vision he'd had earlier. Sure, he expected _Katia_ to be the one to bash his skull in, but it didn't mean he needed another crazy twin to fight. Luckily for him, Jaysia did what he'd asked after a moment's hesitation.

"Thank you," Katia said. "I really appreciate that." As soon as the words had left her mouth, she jerked her head back and down, butting Impa in the stomach and dodging the knife at her throat at the same time. She snaked to the side to avoid Sheik's dagger, then lunged forward, skimming her head under the blade so that it cut most of her hair, freeing her from Impa's grasp almost painlessly. Crossing the circle in a few quick steps, she swiped up Jaysia's sword and nearly tackled Daphnes, grabbing his hair in one fist and pressing it against his throat. "Do not come any closer," she warned, dragging him backward. "I still need a sacrifice, after all." To Daphnes she said, "It is not personal, Your Highness. I like you well enough, though I _am _hurt that you wanted to destroy me after our time together. But please do not think poorly of me because of this." Jaysia took a step forward, and Katia pressed the blade into his skin until a thin line of blood appeared. "I am warning you," she said, though she sounded a little uncertain; if she killed Daphnes, there was nothing keeping them from attacking her, and she did not seem like she could fight all of them off.

_Then again_, she thought, a trickle of blood snaking down her hairline (not all of her hair had escaped Impa's grip, and a good chunk of it had been pulled out at the roots), _Aradvkn might reward my sacrifice with more strength. And if Jaysia is determined to protect me . . ._ For a moment she imagined digging the sword into the prince's neck, drawing a jagged curve right through his Adam's apple and feeling his blood gush over her hand. The two Sheikah would attack her immediately, of course, but if she threw the body at them they could be halted for a second. Zelda would be useless — any fear she'd had of the blonde girl seeking revenge had long been extinguished — and Ryad was something of a mystery. Would he help his friends, or would loyalty to his girlfriend (and perhaps a lingering desire for the body he had loved) force him to defend her?

And _would _Aradvkn bless her with renewed strength?

It wasn't worth the risk, she finally decided. She would leave the boy alive, at least for now. Killing him would only create enemies.

_Or maybe you're just a coward, _a small voice whispered in her mind. She wasn't sure, but it sounded a little like that girl's brother and a little like the real Katia. But that couldn't be. She had left the boy far behind in Piquo, and Katia had been crushed years ago. There was nothing left of her. _Or is there? Are you sure that she isn't the one who's staying your hand right now? Maybe you've lost some of your demonic nature. You're becoming positively . . . _human.

That was idiotic! She would kill all of them in time, but this was not the right moment to slay the prince. If she was able to remove a more powerful fighter from their ranks, however . . .

_I'll show you human, _she thought at whatever the voice was, then drew her sword out of the way before shoving Daphnes away from her with all her might. He staggered forward; Jaysia, who was closest, caught him and helped him to his feet.

Katia ignored them both and sprinted forward, positioning her sword at the optimum angle for impaling Impa as she ran.**  
**

She didn't notice the gray-and-black blur that streaked across her vision until it stepped in front of her sword.

* * *

The first thing Sheik was aware of a brilliant light. He opened his eyes, cringing. "Can someone turn that down?" he asked, struggling into a sitting position.

"You're awake!" He felt a pair of arms wrap around his chest and a face press against his neck. Whoever it was let go of him and sat back, and he saw Impa, looking pale and frightened but absolutely beautiful. There was a bandage tied around her head, but other than that she was fine. "Oh, this," she said in response to his questioning look. "After Katia attacked you, I went after her. Jaysia didn't like that and hit me with the butt of that dagger you'd been holding." She touched the bandage self-consciously, then shrugged, exasperated. "You could've used it instead of letting yourself get run through, you know," she added. "Stabbing her would have been a lot more helpful than dropping it on the ground and jumping in front of me."

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

She snorted. "_Clearly._" There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other, both overwhelmed with relief that the other was alive. "I can't believe you made it," she finally said. "I thought . . ." She pressed her lips together and looked away, her eyes wet. That shocked him more than the knowledge that he was alive; never in his life had he seen Impa cry. Not when she had broken her foot, and certainly not in a well-lit infirmary in the heart of the Sheikah Caverns, while he was lying in a hospital bed, sore but alive.

"What about Katia?" he asked, trying to distract them both from the surreality of this situation.

Impa shook her head. "Dead." She laughed. "You wouldn't believe it — Ryad smashed her head in with that weird golden chest you found. If you hadn't picked that up . . . I mean, no one else was going to get past Jaysia."

He wanted to ask about the others, but was interrupted by a scream coming from outside. It was long and chilling, and unbearably loud. At first he was afraid, but when Impa didn't seem perturbed, he asked, "Should you help her? Or can you tell her to shut up?"

She shook her head. "That's just Zelda."

"What's wrong with her?"

"She's upset that you're dead." When he just stared at her, horrified, she gave him a sad smile. "Come on, Sheik, did you really think you would survive a sword through the stomach? Even if someone had killed Katia the second it happened, you would've died of blood loss before we made it out of the room — forget about following that insane maze of tunnels. You were done before the sword left your back."

Sheik shook his head. "No, that doesn't make sense." He looked down at his chest, which was wrapped tightly in a white bandage identical to Impa's, then back up at her. "I'm supposed to get my head caved in. Katia showed me that."

"Katia can't read the future. Shades are powerful, but not _that _strong." She took one of his hands, brushing his hair out of his face with her other hand and looking at him tenderly. "She was messing with you, Sheik."

"Oh." He ran his free hand over his stomach, surprised that it didn't hurt. But then again, death wasn't supposed to hurt. "So this was pointless?"

"No. If you hadn't jumped in front of me, I would've died. You still saved my life, even if it wasn't the way you thought it would be."

He nodded. "That's good, then," he said, looking up at her and smiling. "I'm glad I did it, then."

Impa rolled her eyes. "Stupid," she muttered, then looked embarrassed — perhaps because she was mocking a dead person. "Thanks."

He waved her gratitude away dismissively. "No problem. Though . . ." He met her eyes and a wicked smirk crossed his lips. "Could I have a kiss? I think it's the least you could do, considering I died for you and all."

"I should've expected that." Despite her annoyed tone, there was a smile on her face as she leaned forward and kissed him. "Don't you care that this isn't real?" she murmured around his lips.

"It's real enough. Besides, it's the closest I'll get, isn't it? Being dead and all."

"Not necessarily." He pulled away from her, confused. She beamed, and deep dimples appeared in her cheeks. Those weren't Impa's.

"What —"

"I guess I just like you." Her face was transforming, her eyes changing from red to purple to a deep sapphire, her skin becoming milky white, her hair darkening at the roots to a sky blue — though the tips remained silver. The muscles and bones under her face were rearranging themselves, a process that should have terrified him but he found merely interesting (after being told he was dead, it took a lot to surprise him). When it was done, a beautiful young woman with shoulder-length wavy hair and a thin, wise face sat on the edge of his bed. "You did a good deed," she said, "and you deserve a better end than this. Though it will be very difficult."

"What do you mean?"

She laughed, the sound light and tinkling and nothing like Impa's husky one. "You were impaled on a sword, Sheik. Returning to that moment is going to be unbearably painful." She cocked her head to the side, something knowing in her expression, and all of a sudden he realized who she was. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

He nodded, closing his eyes. A second later they snapped open and he reached forward, snatching at the girl's arm. "Nayru!"

The goddess looked pleased. "Yes?"

It was a stupid question to ask, a _useless _question to ask, but he couldn't resist. "Did . . ." He swallowed, afraid of what the answer would be. "Did I matter? I mean . . ." He ran a hand through his hair, not sure how to phrase it.

"More than you know, Sheik. You have been — and you _will_ be — very, very important."

"Okay." He sat back against the pillow, letting out a sigh of relief. "Good. That's — that's good."

She took his hand in his, and the too-bright light became even more brilliant until it engulfed everything.

* * *

He hadn't even opened his eyes before the pain kicked in, and Nayru had been right: it was _excruciating. _Worse than getting his skull bashed in, worse than he'd ever imagined. This was tattered skin, this was twisted and shredded organs, this was an agonizingly dull sword through his goddess-damned _stomach_, and for a moment he could do nothing but scream and wish he had just gone into the stupid light and said a fond farewell to the mortal world.

Because the mortal world? It absolutely _sucked._

Zelda was still shrieking, her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide with horror. The others weren't directly in his field of vision, and he didn't care to try and find them. He had been spared a painless, instant death in order to accomplish something, and he was not going to leave without accomplishing it. "Impa," he croaked, his diaphragm protesting violently to his attempt at speaking.

She had been standing behind him, and had almost been close enough to end up impaled as well. Once Katia had yanked the sword back, looking more shocked than anything else, Sheik had crumpled like a rag doll, and Impa had caught him and lowered his limp body to the floor. She was kneeling next to him, holding his upper body in a somewhat-sitting position and letting his legs stretch out to the side. Her eyes were wet, but she hadn't cried. Not yet. "I'm here," she said, then paused, her hand hovering above his cheek as though she was unsure what she should or was allowed to do.

Another jolt of pain shot through him; Nayru may have given him a little time, but it wasn't much. Luckily, not only did it spare him minutes or hours of a terrible death, but it saved him the effort of trying to come up with a long, flowery speech about his undying love — which was undoubtedly for the best, as he was great at making up speeches, but hopeless at admitting his feelings. It would have to be quick. _A little wisdom would nice, _Sheik thought, thinking a quick prayer could only do him some Nayru had heard him, because the words popped into his head a second later, and they were perfect. _Thank you, _he prayed, taking her hand and pressing it firmly against his cheek. "Impa, it's never been anyone else."

"I know," she said, and laughed bitterly. "I wish I'd known that a little sooner, or I wouldn't have been so afraid to . . . to . . ."

He smiled weakly. "Mistakes were made," he joked, echoing the hilariously-vague excuses the court nobles always made when something went horrifically wrong and they were trying not to admit that it was all their fault.

She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. "You can say that again."

He never did, though. A brief look of longing passed over his face, then one of intense pain, then nothing. He was gone.

Impa wanted nothing more than to hook her arm around his shoulders and pull him to her, to kiss his cooling forehead and cheeks and lips even though he wouldn't feel it, to sob and wail and lay next to his body until Katia's sword cut through her own stomach, but she knew that wouldn't do any good. She was lucky enough that the shock of what had happened had given her enough time to say goodbye. Thanking the goddesses for that small blessing, at least, she climbed to her feet and found herself staring into the insane, furious, gorgeous eyes of Katia.

"He died," she whispered. "He died for _no good reason._" Impa stayed silent, looking around desperately for some sort of weapon to use, but found nothing. Her knives had skittered across the room at some point — probably when she collapsed to the ground with Sheik, forgetting all of her training for a few fatal seconds — and she was left utterly vulnerable. She forgot about her friends, even about the corpse of her could-have-been, _should_-have-been boyfriend; all that was real was the twisted face of Katia and the broadsword she held in her hands. "He thought he could save you by dying, but he didn't save anyone. _Do you hear me?!_" she shrieked, clearly losing control. "He — he —" Unable to express her rage in words, she lunged forward, swinging the sword as hard as she could.

Impa didn't even have time to move.

* * *

A/N: Apologies for calling that lump in a guy's throat the "Adam's apple"; I know it's the wrong mythology (in case you didn't know, it's a reference to the Bible, which is sadly lacking in Hyrulian goddesses), but I wracked my brain for an alternative and came up empty, so I stuck with it.


	17. Shade

**CHAPTER 9**

Fortunately, not everyone had forgotten their training. As a flash of pale blue hair burst across her vision, she felt someone's hand close around her upper arm and haul her backwards. She stumbled back, and felt the person's other arm wrap around her chest, steadying her. "It's okay, Impa," Ryad said, his voice just above her ear. The words were meaningless, gibberish meant to soothe without actually being true, but she allowed herself a split second to pretend that, sure, everything was okay. Maybe Sheik wasn't really dead, and they weren't really locked in an underground torture chamber with a mad demon. Maybe —

_Come on, Imp. Don't be stupid._

She shook her head, shrugging out of Ryad's grip. "I'm fine," she told him. "Where are my daggers?"

At the same time, Jaysia had slammed her too-thin body into Katia's, knocking her into the ground. She slammed Katia's head into the floor — there was a gratifying _crack_ — then rolled her sister onto her back and pressed one hand into her throat as hard as she could, pinning her to the ground and cutting off most of her air. She then pushed herself onto her hands and knees. Locking her gaze with Katia's, she felt around until she found the hand that held the sword and pressed her knee onto it, grinding Katia's knuckles into the rough stone until her grip loosened, then taking the sword into her free hand. "Just try me," she snarled, holding the red-glistening blade in front of her sister's nose. Sheik's blood dripped onto her nose, but the shade didn't flinch.

Katia's eyes were glassy from lack of air and her head wound, but she managed a smirk through the blood that caked her lips. "You really wish to fight a shade?" she whispered, blood burbling up from between her lips with each word. "Even with a broken nose, I am still far too powerful for you."

"You seem pretty well defeated now. Why don't I just cut your head off?"

"Your sister would not appreciate that."

Jaysia's stomach tightened at the mention of her twin. To buy time, she shifted her weight, pressing down more firmly on Katia's throat and hand, and inspected the face that was somehow familiar and alien. She had stalked Katia for years, memorized her attitude and her movements. She knew the shade's face well enough to draw it from memory, but she had never really allowed herself to look at it as anything other than a screen separating the monster from the real world. Now, however, she forced herself to try and find her sister in the shade.

There was the birthmark, for one thing. A little pink circle that darkened into salmon when she was stressed or upset. Though blood from her ripped-out hair had obscured most of it, she could still see a sliver of the dark pink mark. As Katia's mouth fell open, trying to draw in as much air as possible, Jaysia recognized the chip in her top tooth that she'd gotten trying to escape a re-dead. Her pupils were little more than pinpricks, but the iris surrounding them was the same ice-blue as her own.

She was Katia, but not. She was the shade . . . but somehow, also not entirely.

Her sister was still in there. And that meant it was Jaysia's job to save her, if that was even possible.

Ignoring everything else, she leaned forward until her nose was against Katia's, trying to see past the monster. "Do you want me to kill you?" she whispered.

For a moment the shade simply looked amused. Then its eyes went impossibly wide, and the pupils expanded almost to a normal size. The body beneath her jerked, then went utterly limp, and Jaysia wondered if somehow the question had killed her. But then the tip of her tongue poked out, licking her cracked lips gently. Then she heard, little more than a whisper:

"Yes."

* * *

_Katia was unbelievably sick of dust._

_Her bed was made of old sacrificial cloth that was crumbling away. The books that made the rest of her furniture were covered in dust. The walls were covered in dust. The floor was so dusty she could draw in it. Her eyes always stung and felt dry._

_Sometimes, when Jaysia remembered, she would bring her some water to bathe in. She would beg Jaysia to let her keep the leftover water, would pile her books onto her bed, and upend the basin, watching the liquid cut through her carpet of dust in slow-moving tendrils. It would turn her room into mud, but for a few hours there would be some reprieve from the endless drought._

_It had never occurred to her to ask for a broom. At ten years old, she didn't know that there was a way to get rid of the dust; she assumed that the Upstairs World (as she called it) was just as coated in filth__._

_She sat up, swinging her tiny, birdlike legs onto the dust carpet. Jaysia was supposed to be coming sometime . . . soon, she hoped. _"I'll be back tomorrow,"_ she'd said. Katia didn't know whether it was tomorrow, but she couldn't stand waiting anymore. "Jay?" she called, coughing a bit from the dry air. She climbed to her feet and crossed the room in delicate steps, pulling open the heavy door to her bedroom. "Is it tomorrow yet?"_

_There was no answer. The smooth marble floor was a pleasant change, so she stepped out into the room beyond hers. There were no torches anywhere else in the tunnels, as far as she could tell, but the dark didn't scare her. There was darkness, there was torchlight, and there was the sickly green light of the re-dead room. She knew better than to venture too far from home, though; no one but Jaysia ever visited her, and once she'd been lost for almost a day and a half before her sister had rescued her. "Jay?"_

_Something grabbed her leg, digging sharp claws into the meager flesh of her calf. She tried to scream, but another hand clamped over her mouth, raking four long gashes in her cheek. The hand holding her foot jerked, sending Katia sprawling to the ground. Her head smacked against the marble with a dull_ thud, _but she held onto conciousness with everything she had._

_"JAY!" she shrieked, wriggling out of the monster's grasp and scrambling back to her room. She didn't even look behind her, but slammed the door as hard as she could on the imposing darkness. She pressed her scrawny back against it and pushed, her feet kicking up clouds of dust until she realized that nothing was trying to get in. She paused, refusing to step away. She cupped her hand to her cheek and sniffled, wincing as blood ran down her wrist._

_Jaysia would be visiting soon, and the monster would attack her unless she did something about it. Casting her eyes about, she saw the hole that she had carved in the wall using only an old sacrificial knife and a lot of time. It led to the re-dead room, but she thought that maybe there was something beyond it. She'd always been too scared to explore._

Couldn't be as scary as _that_ creepy thing_, she thought, hearing her sister's lilting, confident voice._

_"Okay," she whispered. Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from the door, cringing as she expected it to burst open. When it didn't, she raced over to the hole and threw herself into it, clawing her way through the stone tunnel until she found herself in the re-dead room. She stretched out one pale hand . . ._

_. . . And clamped it around someone's ankle. "Jay?" she breathed, squinting against the greenish glow of the room. When someone bent down and plucked her up by her wrist, pulling her to her feet with ease, she realized that this couldn't be her sister._

_Not with claws like that, already stained with her blood._

_"Hello . . . Katia, is it not?" The monster lifted her up into the air, her toes dragging against the ground. When the re-deads screamed, she was frozen, but the monster didn't suffer any ill effects. "You are a pretty little girl."_

_The shocking thing was that, despite the wicked claws and inhuman strength, he didn't look like a monster. His eyes were large and red with tiny pupils, and he looked a little fuzzy, like he was blending into the shadows behind him, but otherwise he was a typical young boy. Or, at least, what Katia's books had told her a boy should look like. His hair was unruly and long, curling sweetly behind his ears in straw-yellow locks, and a spray of freckles dotted his nose and cheeks. He looked to be about her age._

_Katia's mind was moving rapidly, beyond her control, just as surely as her body was paralyzed by the re-dead's cry. Red eyes, small pupils, claws, freezing to touch . . . Her books were full of creatures like these, children of the god Aradvkn and bred for evil. This was . . . this was . . ._

_"A shade." Its voice was lower-pitched than she'd expected, with a strange undercurrent that reminded her of footsteps over gravel, only harsher. Darker. "I would be quite disappointed if you had not guessed it, but then again, it is not your mind that I am interested in."_

_"Who?" she asked weakly, once she was able to speak again._

_"This body? His name was Naran. He was mine for nearly eleven years, but he became so terribly strong." He smiled, revealing a chip in his tooth that matched hers. His hair, too, was beginning to grow, swaying down to his hips and becoming tinted with blue. "I was forced to relocate."_

_As he — _it — _spoke, Katia felt herself growing dizzy and faint. Her stomach felt like it was turning over, and suddenly it took all she had to keep from retching._

_"There will be some discomfort. I am sorry." Its eyes grew wider, never losing their red hue but matching the shape and size of hers, down to the last eyelash. As they did, she realized that she couldn't move her gaze anymore, or blink. As the changes were made complete, she was as paralyzed as if the re-deads had shrieked again. _If only.

_The little girl in front of her blinked, looking around with a smile. "That was much easier than I had expected," it said, staring her up and down. "You are nothing like your sister." Leaving Katia unable to ask how it knew Jaysia, it held her hand, pressing its fingers against hers, and slipped into her skin as easily as walking through a curtain — for him, anyway. As it filled every crevice of her body and mind, she felt a horrible tearing, like she was breaking in two. If she had been able to scream, she would have frozen the re-deads herself. "Lovely," it said with her voice, running its hands over her stomach and hips. "This will do just fine."_

_Katia couldn't speak, but she found that she still had a voice within her own mind. It was weak and exhausted, but it was there. _Why me? _she asked. _Why couldn't you have just taken a baby like other shades? _It was a selfish question, but she was far from caring. The pain was weaker, but she still felt like her body was covered in tiny pins.__  
_

_"Babies are easy to take, but they grow older. They are loved by their families, and feed off that love. They develop minds of their own." Katia felt her jaw clench painfully, though she hadn't moved a muscle. "They free themselves." She bent down and crawled back through the hole in the wall, returning to her room. "People like you are not loved. You are already dead."_

Am not, _she thought, indignant despite the circumstances._

_The shade picked up one of her books, brushing off the dust and leafing through it. She smiled at the images of gory sacrifices. "You live here alone. You have never even seen the sun, something the weakest and most pathetic shade has learned to loathe. You are dead in all the ways that matter."_

Jay loves me.

_"Ah, yes. Your sister. I have met her." She stepped into the marble chamber, unfazed by the darkness. "Who do you think sent me here?"_

She wouldn't do that.

_"Oh, would she not? I needed a body that was weak enough to host me, and she knew that I would ravage the entire country until I found one. She knew how painful a shade's presence was, even for a moment." She laughed, skipping a few steps and spinning around. "You are well aware of that. Unfortunately, that will never go away. It is a hazard of my being." She shrugged and continued. __"Your Jaysia is a caring little girl, and she did not want to hurt anyone unduly. Especially not a little child, one with so much to live for — thank you very much for telling her about shades for me. It made explanation _much _easier._

_"So she was left with one question: Who would be vulnerable and pathetic enough to be a host, who would not have much of a life to lose?" Katia's body pushed against the door at the end of the hall, revealing an old stone-and-dirt tunnel. Katia had never been more than a few yards inside, but it seemed she was about to see much more of the Upstairs World. "It was an obvious choice."_

I don't believe you.

_"You do not need to. You will have proof soon enough."_

* * *

The shade hadn't been able to offer her any substantial proof, but watching the familiar way with which Jaysia had spoken to the monster in her body, the way she hadn't been shocked when she realized that Katia wasn't her sister anymore . . . that had been proof enough for her.

She didn't try to take control of her body, not even as she clutched Jaysia's hair, drenching it in a burning, sizzling potion until it was a much paler blue. Her hand had blistered and bled for days afterwards, but she wrapped it up in a bandage and told her friends — people she had never seen before in her life, but who loved her even more than Jaysia had — that she had cut it in sword practice. When the potion, soaking her sister's hair until it ran down her face, neck, and back, began to scar her beautiful skin irreparably and she started screaming, Katia still did not try to steal her body back.

It was painful, having the shade inside her, and of course she was sad to have hurt Jaysia and banished her. But she had a father who loved her. A best friend named Impa, even if they weren't friends for very long. A boy almost two years older than her who smiled at her every day and brought her sweets from his house, who asked her on a date when she was only fourteen years old. She was trapped, sure, but no more than she had been her whole life.

It could have been much worse.

Now, however . . . _This isn't worth it,_ she thought to the shade, the first time she had spoken to it since it had met Zelda and the others in the market.

They were struggling to breathe, having found themselves pinned down by Jaysia with a sword dangling in front of their face. The shade was clever, though, and as it gasped taunts at her older sister, their eyes darted around for some sort of escape and it kept up a conversation with her inside their mind.

_Come on, Katia, _it said gently. _Have I not been good to you? I have taken your advice when I could, I fostered this pointless relationship with the idiot boy —_

_Don't talk about Ryad like that!_she snapped back. _And you can't kill my sister. And these people . . . Why can't it just go back to the way it was before?_

The shade smirked at Jaysia, but she knew the face was meant for her as well. _Aradvkn needs us, Katia. He is trying to create a new order, and he cannot do it without his children. _That _is what we are here for, and we will be handsomely rewarded. Have we not been already?_

Jaysia asked why she couldn't just cut their head off right then and there. The shade replied, "Your sister would not appreciate that." At those words, a look of mingled horror and despair came over her sister's face, and she leaned in until their noses were touching. Katia watched as Jaysia simultaneously put more pressure on her neck — making her feel lightheaded and faint — and studied her with the most exquisite tenderness on her face.

Katia realized how stupid she had been. How deliberately blind, how desperate to have a little taste of freedom.

_She loves me, _she told the shade, awestruck. _You lied._

They were both weakening from lack of oxygen, their body managing to only catch tiny sips of air through their restricted windpipe, and the shade did not have the strength to argue. Jaysia's breath was warm against her lips as she whispered, "Do you want me to kill you?"

It was the first time a question had been directed to her in eight years. Not to her sister, not to the monster pretending to be her sister, but to her. Jaysia of all people cared about what she wanted. With the last of her strength, she tried for the first time to control her body.

The shade hadn't been expecting it, and even if it had, it was too exhausted from the battle to put up a fight. Even so, it took everything she had to shove her way to the forefront of her mind, to open her mouth and say her first real word: "Yes."


	18. Shade Part II

Jaysia hadn't honestly expected to hear a response from her sister. She had hoped, prayed, but didn't think anything would come of it. Still, there was no mistake. "Katia," she breathed, sitting back slightly.

Coughing from the sudden intake of air, Katia was unable to speak. "Jay," she said as soon as her breath returned, sitting up onto her elbows (it was as much as she could manage, both in her weakened state and with Jaysia sitting on her knees). "It's going to get me again, but —"

The relief that had flooded her as soon as she recognized her sister's presence was replaced with suspicion. "How will I know?"

"It can't talk like this. I've told it time and again, but it always sounds like something much older." Pain flashed across her face, and tears filled her eyes. "Jay, I'm so sorry, I _helped _it, I _liked _having friends and I shouldn't have let it hurt you but I —"

"It's okay," she said. It wasn't, not really, but Jaysia had always felt so responsible for her little sister, and seeing her free for the first time erased any anger.

Katia shook her head. "It's not, but that's not important right now. Under the altar, there's this box full of . . . stuff. I don't even know what most of it is, but there's this necklace and I think it's important. I want you to have it. After . . . after all this."

"You're not going to die," Jaysia snapped. "This necklace, is it magic? Maybe we could —"

Katia gave her a sad smile. "Jay, you already asked what I wanted."

"But that was _before_! Before you were you again! You can't ask me to kill my own sister!"

"I've never really been alive." Her eyes focused on something over Jaysia's shoulder. "Go. Get the necklace."

Ryad was standing over them — they all were. Impa's expression was stony, and Zelda and Daphnes were clinging to each other like they couldn't stand on their own, but Ryad glanced over his shoulder uncertainly, then nodded and hurried over to the altar, ignoring the blood as it seeped into his pants.

"She killed Sheik," Impa said, breaking the silence. Her voice was hollow, like she wasn't entirely sure what was happening.

Katia turned her head, wincing from the soreness in her neck, to meet Impa's eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know him very well, but he seemed nice. I never would have . . . not if I could've helped it." Impa's jaw clenched and she looked away, a spark of pain breaking through the cold deadness in her eyes.

Ryad returned with the box, kneeling down beside Jaysia. Inside were potions of various colors, and a large emerald on a silver chain that seemed too weak to hold it. It was filled with an inner glow, like there was a torch burning inside, reflecting a gentle green light over everything. Katia jerked her chin at it and said, "It was always too heavy for me to wear, but you should take it out of here. It's too beautiful to be trapped with all this dust."

A strangled gasp burst forth from Daphnes, and he disentangled himself from Zelda to sprint to the emerald. Unbuttoning his shirt, he pulled out a necklace of his own. It was a brilliant blue, with little specks of green, purple, pink, and gray, each individual section of the stone as large as his fist. It shimmered with with the same soft light. "Where did you get this?" he demanded, his expression intense.

"I —" Her face tightened like she was in pain, and her eyes squeezed shut. "It's recovered," she hissed, her body going taut and trembling. "Jay, you have to." When her sister opened her mouth to object, she spoke the last three words she would ever say as a free woman: "Please. For me."

With that, her pupils shrank, and before Jaysia could recover, Katia shoved her away and snatched up the sword, burying it in her sister's throat.

* * *

"Nabooru? Are you awake?"

Nabooru groaned and rolled over, covering her face with her arm. "Wha?"

A tight, authorative voice ordered, "Get some water on her face. We don't want her fainting again." _Aveni?_ Nabooru wondered, trying to sit up. But a male voice in her ear made her settle back down.

"Don't get up," Ganondorf said. "You hit your head when you fainted. You'll be all right, but you shouldn't —"

"Move." She settled back down onto her pillow with a groan. "I would love to go just a week — or even a day — without finding myself in here. Would that be too much to ask?"

"It appears to be." Suddenly there was something cool and wet placed on her forehead, covering her eyes and nose. She heard Aveni's voice again: "Nabooru, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Confused as to what in the Goddess' name is going on, but otherwise I'm great." She decided it would be easier to get answers if she wasn't constantly trying to get out of bed, so she tried to still the restlessness in her limbs and added, "Where are my friends?"

Ganondorf sighed. "Outside. They aren't supposed to disturb you, but —"

"We wouldn't disturb her!" Krysu's voice blared through the closed door. "We want to _help!_" Despite herself, Nabooru was amused and touched that her best friend and rival would want to help her get better. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, Krysu continued: "Besides, _someone _has to tell her that the new archery rankings are up. I know she would want to know exactly what place she's in, and I memorized the first ten spots." _That _sounded more like the Krysu she knew. (Though at least she was in the top ten. That was reassuring and a little surprising.)

"I don't —" the healer began.

Aveni rolled her eyes, climbing to her feet. "Let them in," she said. "They won't do anything to her, and if they keep screaming through the door like that, they'll keep her awake anyway." She glanced down at Nabooru and Ganondorf, her eyes moving from one to the other. "Don't make any trouble," she said. She paused, like there was something more she wanted to say, but shook her head and left without another word.

As soon as she was gone, Nabooru's friends burst into the room, crowding around her bed in a semicircle. "Brought you Leevers," Krysu said, hopping onto Nabooru's bed and dangling one in front of her nose. "Want one?"

"Get that thing away from me," she snarled, shoving Krysu off the bed — and inadvertently onto Ganondorf's lap. For a moment they froze, staring at each other in shock.

"Oh . . . I'm very sorry, Your Highness," she said softly, biting her bottom lip and looking him up and down. Still, she lingered a second too long before standing and returning to Nabooru's side, leaning over her friend with a wicked smile. "Wanna know where you are on the archery rankings?" she asked, and Nabooru could tell from her voice and expression that she was preparing to gloat.

Groaning, she turned to her other friends, who were still stunned by Krysu's intimate encounter with their king. Honestly, so was Nabooru, but she was trying as hard as she could to move past it. "Am I at least above you guys?"

"Almost!" Krysu exclaimed brightly before anyone else could reply. "You're in third place, after Jessa, Tami . . . and _me_." From the caressing way she said her own name, Nabooru knew that Krysu had grabbed the coveted first place spot. "Amalyse was fourth, though, so there's that."

"Awesome." She rolled her eyes at Ganondorf, who couldn't seem to tell who to look at. "Anyone got some good news for me? I _did _almost die."

Before Krysu could remind her that she didn't even come close to dying, Aveni appeared in the doorway. "Your Majesty, there are Hylians here."

He looked up sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Details."

"It's the king and his soldiers. We do not know more." She looked at the other girls. "You don't need to come," she told them, "but keep an ear open for the horn."

Ganondorf sighed, then turned back to Nabooru, patting her shoulder awkwardly. "Don't kill yourself while I'm gone," he said, shooting the other girls a quick, uncertain glance before returning to meet Nabooru's gaze.

She grinned. "I'll do my best, sir." Once he had left, she turned to Krysu. "Well, that was interesting," she observed, keeping her voice mild.

Krysu smiled. "Don't bullshit me. If you're mad, be mad." She glanced back at their friends, who were all looking at the floor. "We all know you better than that."

"Why would I be mad? It's not like he's mine." As she spoke, she realized that those words weren't quite true. Well, they were, but she didn't see it like that.

In her mind, the king was hers, and Krysu had no right to flirt with him, accidentally or otherwise.

Krysu raised her eyebrows, looking amused. "Oh. All right then. As long as it doesn't bother you . . ."

"If you knew it'd piss me off," she shot back, letting herself become angry, "why did you do it?"

"_You _were the one who pushed me onto him." When Nabooru simply glared at her, she added, "Okay, I might have tried to upset you a little bit. But has it occurred to you that maybe it was for your own good?"

"How?"

"I was teaching you a lesson!" Krysu's eyes were bright, earnest, and Nabooru realized that, for the first time in their friendship, they were talking about something serious. "You care too much about him, Nabby, and you _must_ know that. It's not good for you, and it's not good for us."

"What are you talking about?" She held up one finger. "First, I don't care about him. No more than any Gerudo cares about her king. And second" — another finger popped up next to the first — "even if I did, I don't see how it's any of your business."

"Because he's ours. _All _of ours. He's the only man in a hundred years, which means . . . you know." Krysu's expression was pitying, which was somehow worse than when she looked smug. When she reached forward to take Nabooru's hand, she jerked it away with a snort of indignation.

"Of course I know that!" she snapped, blushing despite herself; she'd forgotten, and remembering hurt. "I-it's not like I want to break tradition or be his queen or something. I'm not Hylian." She looked over Krysu's shoulder at the rest of the room, who were still steadfastly ignoring the conversation. "Are you guys hearing this?" For once Krysu didn't respond, and the silence grew heavier. A realization filled Nabooru with disgust and horror. "Is this an _intervention_?"

Amalyse cracked first, unsurprisingly. "We just think that you need to keep your head clear," she said, throwing her a pleading look. "You've been getting hurt a lot, and it seems like you've become more reckless than usual."

"In a lot of ways," Jessa added.

Nabooru threw her arms into the air, ignoring the pain it shot through her head. "Don't be ridiculous!" she spat, knowing that her anger was only proving their point. "I'm a daughter of the Desert Goddess, for Din's sake! I'm not some giggling schoolgirl."

"That's the problem," Krysu said, pointing a long-nailed finger at Nabooru. "You're always so overconfident, and it's going to get you hurt if you aren't careful." As she spoke, though, Nabooru caught something beneath the concern: jealousy. Despite her attempts at sincerity, part of Krysu was enjoying Nabooru's weakness, because it proved that she wasn't perfect.

At that moment, Nabooru realized what their relationship was, had always been. Krysu wasn't just her irritating, self-important sidekick; she was more ambitious than she had ever guessed, and far more clever. "You moved in on him on purpose," she said. "Not just to teach me a lesson. You want to be his favorite."

Krysu rolled her eyes, the perfect-angel veneer cracking. "What did I tell you?" she asked their friends. "Overconfident as always. More willing to believe her best friend would betray her than that she has weaknesses."

The other girls, having said their piece, were no longer willing to join this fight. "Maybe we should talk about it later, when we're all a little calmer," Amalyse said, shooting a desperate look at Tami, who had yet to weigh in. She kept her gaze on the window, watching the meeting with Ganondorf and the Hylians below.

"Maybe you should stop trying to sabotage me," Nabooru shot back, "and stop acting like I have a problem when _she's_ just dying to screw me over!"

"Whatever," Krysu sighed, shaking her head like she was some sort of martyr. "Let's leave her alone until she calms down. We shouldn't overwork her when she's injured, anyway." She shot Nabooru another sympathetic look, but this time she saw the envy clearly behind it. "Later, Nabby."

"Please don't be mad," Amalyse said as the rest of them filed out. "We just want to help."

Nabooru didn't answer, waiting until they all left. Once she knew she was alone, she let her head fall back against the pillow, closing her eyes to shut out the brightness of the room.

Was Krysu right? Nabooru had always been confident — it was part of why she was so good at what she did. And if she was Ganondorf's favorite, what was the matter with that? _Krysu's just jealous_, she told herself, but while she knew that was true, she suspected that that wasn't the whole reason. Krysu _was_ jealous, but she still cared at least a little about her; even if she didn't want to admit it, she knew that.

But what that meant was less clear. Did she have to change her personality? Her relationship with the king?

Slowly she lifted her head up. She couldn't lay here anymore, even if her head was going to fall off. "The witches," she muttered to herself. They were supposed to be wise, and there was a lot she needed answers about. She didn't know where their room was, or if it was guarded, but she decided she would deal with that when she had to.

_Overconfident, _her brain warned.

But she'd never listened to her brain. Why should she start now?

* * *

A/N: I've changed a _lot_ in this updated version of the chapter, so if the next few chapters don't make sense (and seem horribly written), check my profile; odds are they haven't been updated yet.


	19. Beginnings and Endings

**CHAPTER TEN**

As soon as the sword passed through the back of Jaysia's mane of tangled hair, its tip dripping red, Ryad lunged forward with an inhuman scream of despair. He buried his fingers into what remained of Katia's hair, dragging her away from her sister. Unsupported, Jaysia fell to the ground and lay there in a crumpled heap, her icy eyes focused on something none of them could see.

"Wait!" Daphnes shouted, running forward with the necklaces clenched in his fist. "Do not kill her yet! I have to understand how this came into her possession! I —"

"Shut _up_, Your Highness!" Zelda hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him against her. "I promise, it's not worth it." The others completely ignored him, their attention focused on the shade, who was watching them all with disinterest.

"I suppose there is nothing I can say to save my own life," she told Daphnes. "_That_ was here long before the brat was. I have no idea where it could have come from."

"Who cares about a stupid necklace?" Ryad demanded. His voice and hands were shaking, but the knife he held to Katia's throat was steady enough. To the shade he growled, "I loved her."

Katia's lips twitched. "You loved _me_." Suddenly she twisted toward him as far as she was capable, her eyes wide with innocence that was convincing. "And I loved you, Ryad. No matter what else happened, that was real." Difficult though it was to understand (let alone explain), the fact that Katia was clearly spewing lies did not make them seem any less true. It was like she could read their most desperate thoughts and emotions and twist them to her own purposes.

And how she could: for a split second the stress overcame Ryad and his resolve faltered. In that moment, Katia's hand snaked up and clutched the blade of the knife, ignoring as it dug into her fingers almost to the bone. Twisting like a cat, she shoved the knife into Ryad's thigh and rolled nimbly out of the way, springing to her feet with a speed that was shocking. Her uninjured hand ripped Jaysia's sword out of her grip and held it in front of her, looking at them all disdainfully, panting despite her efforts to look unscathed. "I have been alive for a long time," she said, "and I am not going to give that up now." Her eyes landed on Ryad, who was struggling to climb to his feet, and her lip curled. "You really _are _pathetic," she told him. "I had always suspected as much." She moved her gaze to Impa, who was standing stiff as a poker with her swords out, and scoffed. "If you were going to kill me, you would have by now." The shade was growing more confident — or perhaps she was just trying to buy time. "Besides, I have already destroyed three of you, and all Sheikah 'warriors.' Do you honestly believe that two Hylians and a weak little girl are going to be able to stop me, when centuries have failed to?" When Zelda and Daphnes exchanged confused looks, Katia laughed; the sound was too beautiful to come from something so evil. "Oh, right. It has only been two so far, has it not? My mistake." She kicked the still-struggling Ryad, knocking him to the ground, and slammed her sword point-down on Ryad's neck. "There we go," she said coolly, pulling the sword out with a disgusting wet sound. "That's better."

As Ryad's blood soaked into the hem of her dress, however, something in her eyes faltered. She had planned on dispatching them all quickly, while the moon was at its height and she was at her strongest. That time had now passed, and the exertion of the fight had drained her. Furthermore, the battle to take control of her body had left the shade far weaker than she had ever expected.

The blood was drying around her, congealing from the corpses she had meant to sacrifice neatly and with the proper rites. Now they were wasted — Aradvkn would consider old blood an insult and likely reward her with death if she tried to offer it to him. Her hope lay in the three remaining people in the room, and with every wasted second she grew weaker and they recovered from their shock. She could see it: the grays and blacks that curled around them like fog was lightening, and Impa's was turning an alarming shade of red. Try as she might to control the colors with her will, they were changing out of her favor.

She had lost, she realized with faint horror. With her last energy, Katia had destroyed any chance of the shade winning by weakening them both to a point beyond redemption. All this boasting did was buy time. _Help me, Lord_, she prayed, surveying the room and trying to look like everything was under control even as she felt their auras slip from her grasp. _See your child. See what I have done for you and save me._

Daphnes felt a shock at the base of his skull like someone had poked him there. Coming out of the haze that had frozen them all in their tracks (and had probably been caused by what remained of the shade's power), he realized what had to be done. Though he was just as weary as the rest, he forced himself to raise his sword and run for Katia with a hoarse cry. His movements were clumsy but he managed to successfully distract the shade, and though she smiled as she prepared to run him through, he knew they had won. Just as her blade knocked his to the side, Impa was there.

Katia felt a heaviness in her gut like the wind had been knocked out of her. _That is not right, _she thought, staring down at the blood as it spread across her dress in a maroon stain. _I stabbed the prince. He is supposed to be dead_. Then pain overcame her and she doubled over, watching helplessly as Impa raised her sword again to decapitate her. _No, _she tried to cry, but all the strength had left her and she could not draw breath. _No, Lord!_

But Aradvkn was a harsh god, and if he heard her pleas he ignored them.

* * *

Nabooru rounded the corner and staggered, pressing a hand to her head. She was still light-headed, and though following the voices of two Gerudo guards had led her to Koume and Kotake's prison, she didn't know what to do now. Nor could she think clearly enough to figure it out. Closing her eyes, she pressed herself deeper into the shadows of the hallway until the light of the wall-torches didn't touch her.

Suddenly a crash startled her as Ganondorf stormed past, not seeing her in the shadows. He gestured to the guards angrily and they rushed to open the doors, giving Nabooru just enough time to scuttle down the hallway and hide herself behind the open door. When Ganondorf entered and it closed, the guards looked shocked to see her standing exposed against the wall. "What —" one of them (named Tika) began.

"You're not supposed to be here!" the other one, Rio, interrupted. They were both from the previous generation and had been something like aunts to her.

She gave them both her best exasperated look. "Come on, guys. Do you really want to sit here and waste time arguing, or can we just eavesdrop already?"

Tika shook her head. "Nabooru, Marisa will be very upset if she hears that you're up and about with that head injury. Neither will the king."

"If my mom cared about my injuries, she would have left the nursery to visit me." Ignoring the looks of pity that the older women gave her, she continued. "And the king is in that room, having a conversation we _all_ want to hear." Ignoring them, she pressed her ear to the door, smirking to herself when they joined her after only a moment's hesitation.

The first thing they heard was one of the old women: "Ganondorf, we only wanted to help you."

The king's voice was cold and hard as he replied, "That's nonsense and you know it, Koume. Why won't you leave Nabooru alone?" The guards' eyes went wide at the mention of her name and she shrugged in response to their unspoken question.

The other woman — Kotake, they knew — sounded smug as she said, "To get your attention, of course."

"Then why did you come back?"

"Because you didn't respond quickly enough." She laughed, a brittle sound. "We're not very patient, son."

"Don't call me that." There was silence, and Nabooru knew that Ganondorf was trying to control his anger; in the time since she'd met him, he'd directed that kind of silence at her more than once. "What do you want?"

Kotake cackled. "Is it too much to believe that we simply wanted our little boy back?" When he didn't dignify that with a response, she added, "We had such great plans for you, Ganondorf. You were to be our king."

"And our son," Koume added, the emotion in her voice more genuine than Kotake's, though perhaps she was just better at faking it.

Whatever it was, it had a profound effect on the king. His voice trembled as he said, "Was getting captured part of your plan as well?"

"No," Kotake said. It sounded false to Nabooru's ears, and from the looks on Rio and Tika's faces, they didn't buy it, either.

"Don't mock me," Ganondorf spat. "I'm not a child."

Kotake laughed again — Nabooru wasn't the most intuitive of Gerudo, but even she was beginning to realize which of the two witches was the leader. "Of course not, son," she sneered. "You sound so grown up. You don't need us anymore."

"Not even to work magic like you've seen, I suppose," Koume said mournfully.

There was a long pause. "I don't want it," he said. "There is nothing your magic has to offer me, and you know it. Nabooru is innocent — leave her out of this!"

"No use for magic? Not even as king?" When that was met with silence, Kotake continued. "Sheikah demons can perform tricks, and even Hylians have some spells of their own. Do you _really _want to fall behind them in such an important skill?"

This time the silence lasted for so long that Nabooru pressed herself against the wood, straining to hear. Then the doors were thrown open with a force that slammed Rio and Tika into the walls and sent Nabooru — who'd been listening through the crack between the two doors — skidding across the floor into the opposite wall. Her head smacked against the stone and a blaze of red agony burst through her skull, though she had enough presence not to cry out even as her vision went dark.

When the blackness faded, she saw Ganondorf standing over her. His face was hard, ignoring as Tika and Rio picked themselves off the floor and hurried to their positions as though nothing had happened. Once he saw that she wasn't seriously injured, he grabbed her by her upper arms and pulled her to her feet and against the wall, causing another jolt of pain to shoot through her head. "What were you doing?" he snarled.

Okay, Nabooru was as loyal to her king as any Gerudo, but this was more than she was willing to take. She was hurt, for the Desert Goddess's sake! "I was _trying _to get answers!" she snapped back, wriggling against his grip. "In case you didn't notice, I've been the victim of some seriously messed-up magic, and no one's told me why!"

"_In case I didn't notice?! _In case _you _didn't notice, I've done nothing but try to keep you safe ever since I met you! And you repay me with eavesdropping?" His fingers tightened on her arms and his voice dropped to a near-whisper. "That's dangerously close to treason, Nabooru."

She kicked him in the shin, and he dropped her, more out of surprise than pain. "I'll take my chances, Your Majesty," she shot back. Her attitude was stupid, but she couldn't help herself. "You've really moved up in the world, haven't you? Totally forgotten that this time last week you were just a skinny brat who could barely swing a stick."

His eyes narrowed. "You forget yourself," he said, all the anger carefully wrung out of his voice so that it was calm as a pool of water. Which only made it more frightening.

Not that the best fighter her age was likely to be easily frightened, nor was she going to back down after she'd already made a stand. "My apologies," she sneered, holding a hand to her head and backing away. "Still concussed, no doubt."

With that, she whirled around and strode away, waiting until she was out of his sight before breaking into a run.

_Interested in him? _she thought, remembering Krysu's words with a snort. _Yeah, right._

* * *

Jade still didn't like Dimitri, but at least she acted civil. While he was still bound to the house she'd done everything she could to never be around, and now that he'd been given permission to explore the grounds and town a bit (though never for long and rarely alone) she sought solace in her room or amid the sea of waist-high grass that lined the beach. He only saw her at meals, and he suspected that suited her just fine.

Suited him fine as well, in fact. He spent most of the day wandering down the beach, reading from Adela's extensive library, and talking to the old woman while she knit. She was a sweet lady, and very lonely with only Jade for company. They both enjoyed having someone to talk to.

"Jade's a good girl," Adela said one day, gently untangling a skein of yarn, "but she's in such a _stubborn_ phase of life. All the makeup, and she refuses to do a single thing I say. Oh, she _sounds _polite enough, but once your back is turned she's off laying in the grass and doing who-knows-what." She frowned as an impossibly tight knot appeared in the yarn, and without taking her gaze off of it she reached for a pair of scissors. "My daughter Saphri did the same thing at her age, but that doesn't make it any less _frustrating_."

"It happens," Demi said. He was laying on the floor with Adela's dog, scratching its stomach lazily as they talked. "I did the same thing. She's, what, fifteen? She'll grow out of it." Everyone he knew had gone through the same rebel phase: wearing their hair long (if they were boys; cutting it short if they were girls), smearing ridiculous amounts of kohl under their eyes, cramming all sorts of strange jewelry into their skin, and generally just being a bunch of stuck-up assholes. It was a fad everyone went through to some extent.

Everyone, that was, except Zelda.

Shaking the thought of her out of his head, he returned to the topic at hand. "Your daughter's much less of a monster than I was."

Adela laughed. "I can't imagine you being difficult," she said, looking at him fondly. "You're such a polite young man." Before he could reply — but what would he have said, really? _"Yeah, for a murderer I'm a swell guy"_? — she continued, "I just cannot wait until she gets a little more mature. Saphri grew into a wonderful woman. The two of us became such friends . . ." Her eyes suddenly misty, Adela shook her head and turned toward the window, gazing out into the gray sky. "But I'm sure Jade will get there eventually."

Demi was dying to ask what had happened to the old woman's other daughter, but though he'd hinted at it before, she'd never been willing to discuss Saphri in detail. Looking around his room, he'd found some clues as to Saphri's personality: under his bed were trunks filled to bursting with clothes, all frillier and brighter than anything he'd ever seen Jade wear, and there were leather-bound books stacked in piles along every wall. He'd picked a few up and flipped through them during the nights and discovered they were journals, pages upon pages covered in detailed descriptions of the plants, animals, and even rocks that dotted the shores of Gish. It seemed Saphri was a girly scientist, which was interesting, but didn't explain where she was now, or why her presence still hung over the house like a fog.

Before he could pursue or change the subject, Adela turned back to him, smiling as though nothing had happened. "Speaking of my wayward daughter," she said brightly, "you ought to go find her. It looks like a storm is coming, and she shouldn't be out there in it."

Dimitri climbed to his feet obediently, wondering (not for the first time) why he hadn't heard that now-familiar voice in his head for days. It had ordered him awake, but now that he was on the mend, it had allowed him to loiter in the house for nearly two weeks. He suspected it was waiting for him to build up enough strength to . . . what, exactly? Demi knew what _he_ wanted to do: jump into the nearest boat and row to Hyrule. Find Zelda and declare his love for her. Make her realize her love for him and live happily ever after. Maybe the Dark Triforce could even remain in him, if he learned how to control it better. Besides, he could probably convince Zelda that she was overreacting. This thing wasn't so bad as long as he didn't get too weak. Weakness allowed it to control him, and that resulted in murder, but as long as Demi remained strong it wouldn't hurt him._  
_

It wasn't so bad, not really, he thought, kicking up sand as he strolled down the beach. If it left him alone the way it had for the last few weeks, he might even find himself missing it a little.

It might be insane, but it gave good advice.

_Maybe that's what it's been doing_, a voice whispered in his ear. Not the Dark Triforce, however. This was a voice he hadn't heard since his fingers first closed around the neck of a middle-aged fisherman in a rowboat, what felt like years ago. His conscience continued, _Maybe it's making you think it isn't so bad. So that you won't fight it anymore._

"Please," he muttered, watching a stand of grass move in the quickening wind. "I'm not that gullible."

_We'll see._


	20. Beginnings and Endings II

Ganondorf didn't bother punishing the two guards for eavesdropping, as it was clearly her fault. However, he gave them both a sharp reprimand, and the look on their faces — a combination of shame and fear, hidden under a mask of emotionless obedience — was enough to satisfy him that they wouldn't go against his orders again. Nabooru was another story, and if he didn't make sure she was punished (and publicly), it would cast a shadow over his ability to rule. He shouldn't have allowed their friendship to get this close; it made an already cocky girl insolent and inappropriately familiar, and it caused talk.

_She's not the only one affected, _a voice whispered in his head. It sounded like Kotake. _You're compromised just as much as she is.__  
_

He pushed this thought out of his head, pausing outside the door to the infirmary. There were a group of girls huddled there, whispering to one another. _Nabooru's friends_, he realized, trying to remember their names. "What's this?" he asked, striding up to them as though nothing was wrong. "Is she in there?"

The woman who'd fallen into his lap looked up at him cautiously. "Your Majesty," she said, bowing as he struggled in vain to remember her name. "I'm afraid she's gone." Krysta? Kresu?

The youngest girl — Amalyse, the one he remembered because he worried she wasn't warrior material — blurted out, "We didn't mean to make her run, sire! We got into a fight and left, but when we came back . . ." She bit her lip and cringed, looking as though she expected him to hit her.

"Do you know where she is?"

This question was met with silence, the girls shifting nervously and debating whether they were more loyal to their friend or their king. Finally Krysta-Kresu said, "We didn't see _her_, exactly, but as we came up the hall we saw someone round the corner over there." She pointed toward the end of the hallway, where a small tunnel led to the library, cafeteria, and front gate. "It might've been her, but we couldn't tell."

It was a start. He fixed them all with his steeliest glare, trying to look imposing. "I want you to split up and search the Fortress. Tell anyone who asks that she is injured and needs to be recovered, and that she is wanted for questioning by the king. I'll look for her outside."

"But there's a sandstorm!" Amalyse exclaimed, her childlike face filled with horror. "You can't go out there!"

Kry-something rolled her eyes at Amalyse's hysterics, but agreed. "You'd have to be crazy to go out in that, sire."

"Oh?" He gave them a smile. "Then that's most likely where she is, wouldn't you say?"

* * *

Dimitri finally found Jade just as the rain began to fall. She was lying in the sand with the grass swaying above her, staring up at the sky. She jumped when he approached, pulling her knees up to her chest and glaring at him through the kohl smeared around her eyes. She looked like a feral raccoon: scared and wild, but not particularly dangerous. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

He held up his hands and stepped back to show that he meant no harm. "Adela said —"

"Oh, right. _She _wants me to get out of the storm before the rain ruins my pretty dress." She scowled and climbed to her feet, skirting away from his offered hand as though it were a knife. The comment was clearly sarcastic; Jade's dress looked like it had once been pretty, but it had been poorly dyed black and the hem, sleeves, and neckline had been cut up into messy geometric shapes. The effect was supposed to be cool and perhaps sexy, but it looked like she'd pulled the dress through a meat grinder and then just thrown it on.

"Why do you call her that?" he asked. "Always '_she'_."

Jade didn't look like she wanted to respond, but as the rain fell in fatter and faster drops and the house remained too far away to run, she realized she didn't have a choice. "We don't get along," she muttered, running a hand through the inky spikes of her hair. "I don't like to think of her as my mother."

He appreciated that she was bothering to talk to him, though he had to stop himself from shaking his head. "You're lucky to have her," he said, trying to keep the preachiness out of his voice and failing. "She clearly adores you."

She snorted. "Yeah, right. She adored _Saphri._ Me, she's stuck with because she accidentally got knocked up again after having her perfect child. Not that I blame Sap. It's not her fault she was so cool . . . and she always treated me like an adult. Which is more than I can say for _her_." Jade shot him a sideways glance, one that was as interested as it was distrustful. _Rebels love a bad boy_, he thought, amused, and wondered how long she'd been giving him those looks. "Besides, don't you think a creepy demon guy like you shouldn't go around giving advice? What do _you_ know about parents?"

"I'm not a demon," he said, irritated despite himself. _Just possessed by an artifact imbued with the spirit of the demon-god Aradvkn, that's all. _"And I don't know much about parents, considering they died when I was younger."

Jade had enough empathy to look ashamed at that. "Sorry," she muttered, clearly resenting the connection they were making but unable to stop pitying him. Or being interested, he noticed as her eyes returned to his before darting away again.

"It's fine," he said, keeping his voice cool and his eyes fixed on the sea. He was flattered by Jade's attention and couldn't help encouraging it. "I just think you should appreciate what you have."

He didn't know if she'd realized that the aloof-guy attitude was an act, but it seemed to be working. "Just consider yourself lucky," Jade said, shaking her head and sounding almost wistful. Companionable, anyway, which was better than he'd gotten ever since he'd arrived. "Not having to constantly feel like you're second-best or a disappointment must be nice."

_Not exactly._ "Tell me about Saphri," he said, wincing as a crack of thunder shattered the sky and they stepped onto the front porch of Adela's sprawling home.

Either his timing was bad or his question was, for her face closed off. "That's none of your business," she said, jerking away from him as he reached to open the door. She slipped inside, making sure not to touch even his dripping shirt, then looked him up and down. The interest was still there, but it was buried under hostility. "I still don't trust you," she said coldly.

He nodded, more surprised than anything else. "That's probably good," he said, not realizing that that only made him seem more intriguing in her eyes (though if he had, he wouldn't have minded). "See you at dinner, Jade." They turned and went in opposite directions — Jade to parts unknown, and Dimitri to Adela in the living room. She smiled as he entered, holding out a ball of yarn to him. He took it and turned it as she knit, saying, "She's not happy, but she's inside."

Adela laughed, her fingers moving nimbly as she worked. "She never is. Didn't give you too much of a hard time, did she?"

He paused, thinking about the fire in her dark red eyes, the desperate attempts at badassery that were painfully transparent, the sullenness that was annoying but also slightly cute. "No," he said slowly, thinking about how nice it was to be the recipient of a crush — especially this one, with a sheen of reluctant antagonism that reminded him so much of Zelda. "No, she's fine."

* * *

The storm _was_ bad, Ganondorf had to admit, trying in vain to shield his face from the sand, and it was only going to get worse. It had been stupid to come out here by himself, but damned if he was going to return to the Fortress empty-handed. "Nabooru!" he shouted, his mouth filling with sand and making him feel like he was suffocating. He untied the bandanna that he'd wrapped around his head and tied it around his face. As soon as it was freed, his long red hair tangled into a sandy mat, but at least he could breathe somewhat. "NABOORU!"

It was almost impossible to get his bearings, but he'd spent enough time wandering around the desert to guess where he was. After what felt like an eternity of struggling through the sand, he saw that he was near where he'd first met Nabooru, which meant that his old home was around here somewhere. It wouldn't be as protected from elements now that the witches' magic was gone from it, but it was better than nothing. If his friend had an ounce of common sense, that's where she would have headed.

Just as he thought he saw the blurry outline of the shack, the wind picked up, obscuring everything more than a foot or two away. The sand hitting his skin was more painful as well, like he was being swarmed by thousands of stinging insects. "Goddess-damn it, Nabooru," he muttered as he closed his eyes and concentrated, then snapped. He curled his other hand around the small blue flame that leapt up between his fingers, though it didn't need protection from the wind; it would not go out until he broke his focus.

Ganondorf could feel the glee of his mothers and knew they sensed his magic from their prison. _Nothing our magic can offer, eh? We will remember this, son._

Before he could wonder whether that voice was his imagination or not, a hand closed around his arm with a callused iron grip, nearly dragging him off his feet and behind the scant shelter of a cactus. "SON OF A BITCH!" someone shouted, and then he was whirled around to face a dark blur. He lifted his hands to fight, but lowered them as the shadow put its free hand on its hip and said, "Are you a _complete _idiot?!" That voice, the pose, the brief glint of gold from behind its mask . . . He recognized Nabooru, and the flame on his fingertips died.

"What are you doing here?" he yelled over the wind, looking at her outfit with envy. She'd been hard to recognize because she was wrapped in a dark brown cloak that covered her entire body while a mesh mask protected her face. It was one of hundreds of storm uniforms, and as the wind whipped needle-like sand against his body he wished he'd thought to bring one.

"_Me?_ What about you?" As though reading his mind, she pulled another cloak out from under hers. She tried to shield him with her body as he struggled into the uniform, but they were both coated in sand by the time he pulled the mask over his face.

He spit a mouthful of sandy hair out of his face and snapped, "I was looking for you!"

She shook her head and he realized that he missed watching her ponytail whip around her face when she did that. "And _I _was in the library, you moron! I wasn't gonna go outside in a storm like this!" Nabooru stepped closer so that he could better hear her, tilting her head back until her chin was almost touching his chest. "Did you seriously think to look _outside_ before checking the library for me?"

"You don't mean . . ."

She rolled her eyes. "Can we get out of this storm before talking about how stupid you are?" she asked. "And bring that light back, it was cool."

Embarrassed that he had somehow forgotten the danger they were in, Ganondorf flushed and looked around, snapping his fingers again. To his horror, he realized that the wind had rearranged the dunes and obscured their vision to the point that he no longer knew where he was. "Are you as lost as I am?" he shouted. She nodded and he took her hand, picking a direction at random and plowing through drifts of sand that came up to their knees.

It was slow going, as the sand made it difficult to see and walk and they couldn't risk falling down; they'd be buried before they could get back on their feet. Furthermore, they kept stopping for as long as they could (only a few seconds before the sand piled up against their legs) to look around for any signs of shelter. It was during one of these pauses that Ganondorf spotted a dark blur out of the corner of his eye. Tightening his grip on Nabooru's hand, he fought through the sand toward it. As the blur grew larger and more defined, he found himself hoping that it was the Fortress.

It was a cave, actually, and they collapsed inside with relief. "So are they going to kick me out for being too dumb to rule?" he asked, touching the flame to a piece of driftwood that had blown in from the storm. As it caught alight, he let the fire die from his fingertips, watching with amusement the awe on Nabooru's face.

Not that she would admit she was impressed, of course. She deliberately ignored the fire, though her eyes kept darting back to it. "They don't know," she said, pulling her mask off and pushing back the hood of her uniform to shake out her hair. When she was met with stunned silence, she added, "Well, _I _knew you were an idiot, but I didn't want the rest of the Fortress to find out. That'd hurt their morale. So I decided to sneak out as soon as I overheard Krysu and Tami talking about it." She smirked. "Besides, I thought since you were so mad at me earlier, I oughta do something to make you owe me."

Ganondorf took off his own mask and hood, wincing at the mess that was his hair. Nabooru slipped behind him and started combing it with her fingers, her touch surprisingly gentle as she worked the sand and tangles out of it. "Is this going to become blackmail?"

She chuckled, the sound sending chills down his spine. "Not a bad idea . . . but that's _dangerously_ close to treason, so I was thinking instead we could just call ourselves even."

He smiled. "Even," he agreed, knowing that letting Nabooru go without some kind of punishment would make him look weak and not caring. His scalp kept tingling as her fingers worked through his hair, and when her pinky brushed against the back of his neck, he jumped like she'd bitten him.

"Everything all right?" she asked.

Suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable, he climbed to his feet, wincing as her fingers got caught in the snarls that remained. "Fine," he said, not looking at her. Casting about desperately for a change in topic, he asked, "Wanna see where this cave goes?"

She glanced outside at the storm, which wasn't abating, and stood as well, grabbing his arm as she tripped over her cloak. When she righted herself she was blushing, and Ganondorf suspected it wasn't wholly from embarrassment. "Go where?" she asked gruffly, stamping out the fire. "It doesn't go anywhere."

"Actually . . ." He shoved aside a rock to reveal a partially-hidden tunnel that led underground. It was a rock he'd put there, though it looked like it had been moved many times since. "I used to wander the desert a lot as a kid and found this maybe a year ago." He glanced over at her and grinned. "Not bad for a skinny brat with a stick, huh?"

She groaned. "How long before I live that one down?" He shrugged and she stuck out her tongue, peering into the tunnel. "And you're not _too _skinny anymore, at least. You've bulked up a little." Shooting him a brief, appreciative glance, she added, "So what's down there?"

He led the way into the tunnel, snapping his fingers again to give them some light. "Have you ever heard of a Moblin?"

* * *

"Is it really gone?" Zelda asked.

"It should be," Daphnes said, fumbling at his shirt and hissing in pain. "Shades cannot survive for long outside of hosts, and it is nowhere near strong enough to overpower even a small child. You saw how we were able to break out of its hold." Despite the pain in his abdomen, he managed a small, reassuring smile. "And the longer it spends without a body, the weaker it will get. It will fade away before leaving these caverns, I am certain."

Zelda stepped closer to him, helping him lift his shirt. Katia's blade had gone wild as Impa attacked her, and she had barely grazed the prince's stomach. It would leave a scar, but not a terribly noticeable one. Her fingers brushed the wound and he gasped through his teeth. "_You _broke us out of it," she said. "I couldn't even move. It was like being stuck in a fog."

"Don't feel bad, Zel. It was using our emotions against us. Shock, grief, exhaustion . . . those are draining at the best of times, and the shade was skilled at manipulation." He looked at Impa, who was still staring down at Katia's body. "There was nothing we could have done differently."

"So many opportunities to kill her," Impa muttered. "They didn't have to die."

He left Zelda and put his hand on the Sheikah's shoulder, feeling somewhat awkward but feeling it was his duty. He _was _a prince, after all. "The shade was old," he told her. "It was strong, and they weakened it." Impa tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened and kept her in place, forcing her to meet his eyes. "They saved our lives."

Her jaw tightened, but finally she nodded and he dropped his arm. For a minute they just stared at each other, unsure what to say, but they were distracted by a barking laugh from Zelda. She had sunk into a kneeling position on the floor, her arms wrapped around her stomach and her gaze on Katia. "It's over," she said. "Kind of anticlimactic, when you think about it." She looked up at them, tears in her eyes. "How many days do you think it's been?"

"Zel," Daphnes began, but she continued talking as though she didn't hear him.

"Is there even a world up there anymore?" She looked around, scanning the carnage around her. "How can there be a world, when things like this happen?" A shrill giggle bubbled up through her lips, though her eyes were full of desperate horror. "I'm hungry."

"She's hysterical," Impa said, shoving aside her own grief and crouching down next to Zelda as protectiveness took over. "It's shock. Now that it's all over . . ." She gently put her hand under her friend's chin, tilting it up and accidentally smearing it with the blood of herself, Sheik, and Katia. "You're okay, Zel," she said, even though that was clearly a lie. She followed it up with more obvious bullshit: "It's all right now."

Zelda met her gaze, the laughter dying at her friend's touch. "How can I be hungry?" she whispered.

Impa didn't know how to answer that question, so she turned instead to Daphnes. "She can't go back to the castle, especially not like this," she said. "I'll take care of her, I promise."

"But I —"

She shook her head. "You wanna be useful? Go back to the castle and convince your parents that she didn't kidnap you and shouldn't be arrested or executed. And if you hear something about two Sheikah prisoners causing a breach in the dungeon security . . . try not to pay attention, okay? And maybe soften the blow a little. We never meant to hurt anyone." Her gaze drifted over to Sheik's body and her face tightened. "I know he didn't."

That probably should have alarmed him, but he was too overwhelmed by everything else that had happened. "I will send for her when things calm down," he said, watching Zelda and desperately wishing he could stay with her.

"Good. Take care of yourself too, Your Highness." She gently wiped Zelda's cheeks dry, a look of surprising tenderness on her face. "I'll look after her."

"Who will look after _you_, Miss Impa?"

She shook her head. "Just Impa. And I'm fine." Another lie.

"That cannot be true." When she didn't reply, he added, "Come, let us get out of here." While Impa helped Zelda to her feet, he picked up Sheik with a gentleness that moved her, though he clearly had trouble with the boy's weight. "I will send guards back for the others," he said, "and to properly deal with these artifacts." He didn't explain why Sheik was more important than the rest; he didn't have to. "But first, does he have any family?"

"You will _not _send guards clomping around here. This is for the Sheikah to deal with." He conceded once she agreed to let him peruse the books and make copies for the royal library. "And yeah, he has a sister. Tia. I'll take you to her."

"Thank you very much, Mi — Impa." They walked back through the maze of tunnels in silence, following the path that Daphnes had taken. Finally he said, "Listen, you clearly mean very much to Zelda, and you saved our lives countless times today. I want you to know that there is nothing in my power that I will not do to repay such a debt. Please, just ask. And do not say you are fine," he added as she opened her mouth. "Everyone needs someone to give them aid."

"I had someone. He's dead now." There was a small grunt as Daphnes shifted Sheik's weight in his arms, and she fought back tears. "Thank you, Your Highness."

She couldn't see him in the darkness of the tunnels, but she could feel the prince's weak smile. "Just Daphnes."

* * *

A/N: As with each chapter I rewrite, I tend to change quite a bit, so if the next chapter seems odd (like, say, Zelda is suddenly perfectly fine. I struggled with accurately portraying grief when I first wrote this, clearly), it most likely has not been edited.


	21. Romance, Cross Dressing, etc

_**Chapter Eleven**_

"Where did she go?" Tia demanded, pacing across the room. Zelda almost smiled,despite everything. Tia was so much like her brother.

"Um, we're not sure," Zelda said, glancing at Daphnes out of the corner of her eye.

_He_ knew why they were there. More than she did, at least. He'd asked if anyone knew Sheik or Impa, and Zelda had brought him to the Sheikah Caverns to talk to Tia. Or tried to, anyway. Turns out the Sheikah didn't like it when Hylians tried to break into their home. Go figure. Tia had come out and saved them, bringing them to her home.

"I'm gonna go try to find her," Tia was saying, shaking her head. "Poor Impa. Whatever happened, it must have been bad. Why did she run off?"

Oh, boy. Here came the part she hated. They'd told her Impa had disappeared, and sort of didn't tell her why. Being the politician, Daphnes had skirted around the subject, and, like Sheik, Tia wasn't the type to ask questions.

"Well . . . . Sheik is . . . kinda dead."

Zelda was grateful that Daphnes had chosen to tell Tia.

"Farore," she whispered, and sank into a chair. "My brother . . . he's really dead?"

"Yep," Daphnes muttered. He looked uncomfortable. Zelda sent him a smug "Well you're the one who wanted to come here" look.

"Ok," Tia said, climbing to her feet. "I have to go talk to Impa. I have to find her. Din knows what she's feeling."

"Actually," Daphnes interrupted, stopping Tia on her way out the door. "We were wondering if you knew any old legends."

She paused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, any sacred objects, any special spells, etc."

Oh. So that was what he'd come here for. That boy was still thinking about the Triforce.

Tia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I guess," she began. "How will it help Sheik?"

Daphnes felt a twinge of annoyance. Everyone was fixated on Sheik. But he quashed the feeling immediately. Sheik had seemed decent. Pretty cool, even. And he was dead. That kinda sucked. He took a deep breath.

"Nothing, really. But it might help other people from getting killed."

She thought for a second, shifting her weight and biting her lip. "Well, there's the Lens of Truth. That might be the sort of thing you're looking for."

Zelda raised her eyebrows. "What does it do?"

"I really don't know. It's mystical and hidden. I thought that was what you were looking for." Her eyes widened suddenly, and she hurried away. Zelda remembered from her last time here that she was going to Sheik's room.

She returned holding a packet of papers. "Sheik was interested in the legends for a while. Our crazy grandma--" she laughed, and shook her hair out of her eyes, "--believed in all that. He said he'd found a bunch of things, and hid them. He recorded it and everything. I don't really know why, except that he loved Grandma. She lives with one of the elders. The 'elders,' which are teachers and stuff, are the only ones who can keep a hold on her." Tia held out the papers. "Maybe you can use these."

Zelda took them, and began rifling through them. She squinted to read Sheik's messy scrawl. "'The Lens of Truth,'" she read. "'I think I know where it is, but it's protected by something. I'm not sure what. I think I can figure it out. Probably. Maybe.'" Zelda laughed softly. "'It's--'" She looked up. "It doesn't say anything else."

"Why not?"

"Like I know? He probably got distracted or something and forgot about it. No, wait--here we go. It's a map. I guess he didn't want to write it out."

Tia studied the two of them, cocking her head to the side. "You won't be able to just go looking for it," she commented. "Hylians--not even the prince--" she added, bowing slightly, "are allowed to just wander the Caverns without a Sheikah with them. And the guards already don't like you. I can get you out of here unscathed, but--" Again she turned and ran in the direction she had come.

"Another brilliant idea?" Zelda asked.

She returned, holding a pile of cloth in her arms. "Here," she said, tossing them to Daphnes. "You can disguise one of you in these."

"Why not both of us?" Zelda asked.

"Each Sheikan family has their own symbol," Tia explained. "And Sheik, being Sheik, went a little farther."

She held up the garment. On it was a black sword--the family symbol, Zelda assumed, judging from Tia's outfit. But all around the sword, across the legs, chest and arms, were squiggly lines in brilliant colors. Red, green, orange, they traveled all around. Zelda narrowed her eyes at it.

"That's not what Sheik wore when he . . . earlier," she said lamely, feeling her neck grow warm. Oops.

"His battle uniform is normal. That's probably what he was wearing. Anyway, only one of you can be Sheik." She closed her eyes, and Zelda could imagine her reliving some memory or another of her brother. "I've gotta go find Impa," she said, rushing toward the door. "I'll tell the guards I escorted you out a different entrance. Put that on and just get out fast." Then she left.

Zelda slid into the outfit, tucking her hair into the bandage hat the way she'd seen Sheik do it. She glanced at the mirror. Other than her blue eyes and female stature, she looked a lot like Sheik.

"Ready?" Daphnes asked, coming up behind her.

"Yeah," she answered, fighting a wave of creepiness that came from wearing Sheik's old clothes.

They hurriedly left Tia's house and wandered around. Daphnes held the map, and Zelda kept an eye out for other Sheikah. There was no one, though, and when they reached the end of the map, where the Lens of Truth was supposed to be, the hall was empty.

They stood there, staring at the wall for a long time, feeling triumphant. Then Zelda asked, "Hey. How do we get in?"

There was another long pause. Finally Daphnes replied confidently, "I don't know."

"You don't?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Hmm . . ." Zelda stared at the door that wouldn't open. "What if we just, like . . . hit it?"

He snorted derisively. "You think Sheik didn't think of that?"

She shrugged, then kicked the door with all her might. It fell in with a bang. Zelda grinned at Daphnes.

"Apparently no one could figure out thatthe door opened _in." _

Inside was a battered brown chest. They opened it, and laying inside, glimmering slightly . . .

"What the hell?" Daphnes held it up. "This is _it_?"

Zelda rolled her eyes. "What did you expect?"

"I dunno. Something . . . magical."

He held it facedown as they left. "HOLY--"

Zelda glared at him. "What?"

Daphnes stared through the glass. He could see through his shoe to his foot. Every single detail was visible. And, just a faint outline on his skin, he could just see the bones in his foot. Holding out his hand, he could see straight through his shirt to the pale pink skin of his forearm.

Zelda was still looking at him, her lips pursed slightly. Once he'd glanced back up at her, she smiled, placing a finger on his lips. "Shh," she whispered, her blonde hair fluttering around her face in little wisps of gold. A strange warmth made his mouth tingle. Zelda pulled her hand back, her cheeks turning red. She gestured him forward.

As they walked, he had Zelda hold the lens. He wasn't totally he could trust himself with it.

* * *

Clink. The only noise Dimitri had heard so far during the course of the dinner. Jade was staring sullenly at her plate, refusing to take a bite. Her mother had begun the meal chattering happily, but no one was in the mood to talk, and she fell silent. Demi would have refused to eat, too (who knew what the hell this was? Steamed-something-in-raspberry-sauce?), but he hadn't eaten in a long time, and he was starving.

"Dimitri," Jade's mother--who's name was Mela--began. "How long are you planning on staying?"

"Uh . . ." Demi looked to Jade for help. But Jade, who had apparently heard this before, was glaring out the window. "I really don't know."

"Well, if you haven't made any plans--" Mela shot a sly glance at Jade-- "you might want to consider staying here. There's not very many other males around here . . ."

"**_WHAT_**!"

Jade stiffened. Demi started choking.

"I . . . don't really know . . ." he struggled to say between trying not to choke to death.

Jade didn't say anything. She just stood, trembling with anger.

Mela didn't appear to notice the commotion she'd caused. "_Do_ chew thoroughly, dear. Anyway, it's that you're such a nice boy, and a good influence for everyone--"

"And a perfect match for you screw-up, screw-everyone daughter!" Jade finished, rising to her feet and slamming her fork down.

Demi took a swig of water, hoping he wouldn't choke on it as well.

Mela sighed. "Well, you _do _have a bit of a reputation--"

"And that's it! A reputation, some gossip spewed from a bunch of old hags with no life, and you think you know everything!"

Mela looked embarrassed. "Dear, they are very respectable, and Mrs. Harrison said you were with her son, and Madame Dalton saw--"

Jade stormed out of the room, not even bothering to respond.

"Honey," Mela said. "Would you like any more food?"

"No," Demi replied, his voice strangled. "No, that's okay."

He turned and followed Jade out of the room.

* * *

Daphnes and Zelda huddled against a wall, listening to snippets of conversation.

"Did you see when Ram's dress went flying up?"

"No, but I heard Chase's girlfriend threw water at him. I think they're over . . ."

"Hey, do you wanna come home with me?"

"Not on your life . . ."

And above it all, the steady bass beat.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.

Stupid, everyday party noises. That was where all the Sheikah were. There was some sort of celebration.

And it presented the biggest problem.

Daphnes turned to face Zelda, lowering his voice. "All right. We're at a party. We're cool, right?"

Zelda nodded, her eyes sparkling.

"How well can you impersonate a guy?"

Zelda closed her eyes, running her tongue over her lips thoughtfully. Daphnes focused on his shoes.

She opened her eyes, slouched back, and jutted out her jaw. Altogether a pretty realistic version of a guy.

And then she spoke, in a voice several octaves too low.

"Yo, yo, mon, I'm da Sheik masta, mon, and I'm like chillin' dude, yo?"

Daphnes stared at her for a long, long time. Slowly he shook his head.

"No."

"Mon-yo? Da mon is in da house? Word?"

"No."

"Bummah, dude. Fo' shizzle.."

"Stop. Just . . . don't talk. And keep your eyes closed. Sheik's eyes aren't blue."

"So I'm like, stoned, mon?"

Daphnes shook his head, then pulled her through the crowd.

Sheik, as it turns out, is pretty popular.

That sucked.

"Sheik! How are you?"

"What's up?"

Daphnes quickly interjected.

"Uh, Sheik's kinda . . . drunk. And unconscious."

Zelda slumped in his arms, trying to look convincingly wasted.

"Oh," a pretty black-haired girl said. "Well, tell him Jasmine said hi, okay?"

"Sure." And in this manner they made it across the crowded room without too much trouble. Sort of.

Zelda cracked one eye open. "How long do you think that guy will stay knocked out for?"

"Hopefully long enough. You really didn't have to tell him he looked like a baboon butt. Or kick him in the shin. And certainly not call him a b--"

"Hey, he insulted Impa. You don't go around being rude to my friends like that."

Once outside the room, they only ran into a few people. One group of guys stopped them as they neared the exit.

"Hey, what's wrong with Sheik?"

"He's drunk. I'm just taking him home."

A few steps later, one boy called out behind them.

"Hey, isn't Sheik's house that way?" he asked, pointing in the opposite direction of where they were going.

Daphnes closed his eyes. They were so close.

The silence stretched out awkwardly.

Suddenly Daphnes shoved Zelda forward. "Run, Zelda, run!"

As they sprinted away, Zelda called out over her shoulder (in that ridiculous low voice), "Funka skunka hard core! Oh yeah!"

The boys just stared after them in confusion.

Once they'd escaped the Sheikah Caverns and were safe in Kakariko, Zelda turned to Daphnes. "Why didn't _you _wear the Sheik outfit?"

Daphnes opened his mouth, then shut it again.

"I really don't know."

* * *

Jade closed her eyes and ran. She didn't really know _where _she was planning on going, but it wasn't really that much of a surprise when she ended up near the ocean. It had always been a safe haven.

She was still shaking. Her mother was just so . . . Jade sat down and leaned back, resting against a sand dune.

A reputation?She had a_ reputation? _Just because she was the only girl on the island who didn't look like a Barbie (yeah, yeah, bad comparison, Barbie doesn't exist, whatever). There were, what, three kids her age on the whole peninsula? (Ocean on two sides, river on another).

And she hadn't been with anyone. Robby always followed her out here and she'd kissed him once. His lips were like a squid's, anyway. She did her best to stay away from everyone.

Sand was kicked from the top of the dune, and it rained down on her. Demi leapt off the dune, landing in front of her. She smiled a little.

Demi sat next to her. They were silent for a while, listening to the waves crash on the shore. Then he asked, "Is she always like that?"

Jade didn't have to ask who she was. Who else would it be? "All the time. She's always trying to teach me how to 'be proper,' and all that crap. We've been having an ongoing war. She gets me a dress, I throw it out the window or put it on the dog. She complains about my earrings, I go get another one. They hurt like hell, though." She gently touched the ring on her bellybutton. "Especially this one. Anyway, we've been like that for as long as I can remember. She wants me to be like her, prissy and gossiping about her own family. No, thank you. You know, my hair's really brown? Mom always said she loved the brown, and that I looked great in pink. Naturally, I dyed my hair and all my clothes black."

"Why don't you leave?"

"Where would I go?"

He didn't have an answer to that. The silence stretched between them, but it was comfortable silence. Hesitantly Demi muttered, "Do you . . . do you really have reputation? I mean, is it true?"

Jade glared daggers at him. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know."

"What does that mean?" he wondered, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

No luck. "It means that you want it to be true. You want someone who's easy, and _won't _turn you down. You've probably never had a girlfriend before."

He looked down at the sand. "Yeah, I did."

From the tone of his voice Jade knew she should shut up, but she was so mad at everyone she continued. "What happened? She kill herself or something?"

"No." His voice still had that oddly soft, vulnerable sound. Jade felt bad immediately. "Then what happened?"

"She left."

From there, he told her everything, about the Dark Triforce, and running away, and Emilia, and Quahi. Jade sat, still as a statue. When he was finished, she didn't move.

What do you say to all that?

Demi traced little pictures in the sand, looking out at the water. Jade thought for a long time what it must have been like, what it must _be _like, to have something in your head, making you do things you don't want to do. Having it not talk must be even worse, because who knows what it might be thinking?

All this ran through her head in five seconds. "It'd not, true," she whispered.

Dimitri turned to look at her. "What?"

"My . . . reputation. It's not true. I don't even talk to other people. Except you."

"Why not?"

She snorted. "The simple version? They're all jackasses."

"The long version?"

"They're all perverted jackasses." She sighed, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. She even sorta liked Demi.

Not _liked. _Just as a friend. _I think._

He put his hand on her shoulder, looking into her eyes. "Not everyone's like that," he whispered.

She nodded weakly.

Okay, maybe she liked him. A little.

But he'd be gone soon. That would make life easier.

He stood, and smiled down at her. "I'm going in. Coming?"

"In a minute."

He waved, then wandered away. She watched him leave, feeling a tiny thrill of excitement.

So he was cute. Make that _really_ cute.

Jade stretched, feeling the cool salty wind on her skin, then turned and followed Demi inside.

* * *

"So?" 

Daphnes stopped and turned to face Zelda. "So what?"

She laughed. "What does this little Magnifying Glass of Doom do for us?"

He thought. "Well, I think with the Zora's Sapphire we can gather enough power to find the Triforce."

"When did you get it?" she asked, pointing at the blue stone.

"Prince Zora gave it to me. When you'd run off. He said the stone was soothing, and said to give it to you when you get all weird like you did."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Daphnes led her to a bedroom. "Here," he said. "You stay here. I'm going to go to the library to look up some stuff on these." He held up the Lens and Sapphire.

"I can help--"

"No. You need rest. Just go to sleep. I'll send some food up. We need to stay the night. You've got to be exhausted. There should be some clothes in the wardrobe."

"I have clothes."

Daphnes raised an eyebrow. Her summer dress was torn up to mid-thigh (how had that happened?), and stained with blood, dirt, and whatever else. She lifted her head high and sauntered over to the wardrobe. He grinned smugly, then turned and began to leave. Stopping at the door, he added, "Oh, the bathroom's at the door to your right. Everything should be in there."

Then he was gone, and Zelda was lost in the land of prissy clothes.

She was saved from having to make any decisions when two blond maids knocked on the door, carrying trays of food. They cocked their heads to the side, and said in unison, "Oh, no. The Queen won't accept you wearing that. We'll help fix you up. Into the bathroom, you."

"Wait, wha--"

They shoved her into the bathroom.

"Whoa."

There were millions of them. Pink, purple, blue. Pastel, sparkling. Bottle uponbottleof bath stuff.

Zelda picked one up, reading the labels. "'Shampoo.'" She set that aside, choosing a bottle the color of pickles. "'Conditioner.'"

"'Extra-strength conditioner.' What's so strong about it?"

"'Bubble bath.'"

"Bubble bath with . . . what is that word? Aglooflodish? That sounds like a sneeze. Oh, it's a scientist. Some daed guy's in this bubble bath? _No, thank you_."

On and on. Every type of product existing was there. She randomly grabbed four bottles and slipped into the bath.

Apple blossom shampoo. Orange-mango conditioner. Lemon-and-pineapple body wash. Bananas-and-peaches bubble bath. "'Stress-relieving,'" the bottle had said.

Was she relieved? Zelda wondered, wrapping a vivid pink towel around herself. She was clean. She wasn't fighting for her life. That might be considered relaxing.

But one fact stood out in her mind more than any other: she smelled like a fruit bowl.

Two sharp raps on the door. "Ready?" one of the maids asked.

"For what?"

"Come on out, you."

Whoo. Fun.

Zelda opened the door, and the maids ambushed her, dragging her toward the center of the room to face dresses, and hair, and lace vs. fur, and buttons! Lots of buttons!

All exactly the kind of thing she hated.

She stood there, wondering what the hell was going on, and when Daphnes was going to come back.

The fluffy pink (the dominating color) frills attacked her, making it hard to breathe.

Daphnes had better have a freakin' good explanation, or he was one sad little prince.

One sad, _dead _little prince.

* * *

"What are they?" Nabooru asked. 

"Moblins. They were used in a war, a long time ago. But after a huge massacre, they left." Ganondorf had his eyes fixed on the monsters.

"Who did they kill?"

"Well, the war was against the Sheikah. The last king had used them. But he couldn't control them. They went on a killing rage, attacking the Zora's Domain. They're still trying to recover."

Nabooru looked back at the Moblins, but without any admiration anymore.

When they'd first seen the pig like things, Nabooru had noticed their huge muscles and amazing strength. One Moblin picked up a silver hammer and swung it almost lazily. He barely flicked his wrist. But the Moblin smashed the hammer into a nearby wall. It fell down with the force of the blow. The wall, that is. The wall, which was made of stone, was now gathered into a neat little pile of gravel as fine as sand. The Moblin continued onto its merry way, smacking down statues and other little things that made up their prison.

There were probably 3,000 Moblins in the cave. Of course, Nabooru couldn't see them all. The chamber they were looking down at now was only a couple hundred feet across. But there were side tunnels all around them, and from the scuffling and grunting and sounds of demolition, the Moblins had to keep making it bigger to suit their needs.

Nabooru eyed a nearby Moblin apprehensively. She was the best fighter in the Gerudo Fortress (except for maybe Ganondorf), but it didn't mean she could take down h

"What are we doing in here?" Nabooru asked Ganondorf, gesturing at the cave.

"We're getting out of the storm," he explained calmly, waving his arm at the exit. The angle of the cave opening sheltered them from the sand blowing past. When the wind shifted, the sand whipped back at them. It felt like needles on her bronzed skin.

Suddenly she screamed and leapt back, falling into the wall.

The roof of the cave fell in. Rock fell around them. The wall Nabooru had fallen into caved beneath her weight. A hammer burst from the rock, barely missing her head. Shouting, she fell as the wall completely crumbled. She ended up laying on the ground, her head resting on a nice soft piece of granite as a Moblin looked down at her, blinking in confusion.

The roof hadn't really fallen in. There was a messy hole above their head. A Moblin fell through the hole. Nabooru pulled Ganondorf out of the way. The pig landed exactly where Ganondorf had been. The cocky Gerudo peered at it, shaking her head.

It was a Moblin, all right. But it didn't look like the others. Its nose was elongated, almost like a trunk. Its piggy eyes bulged out, and it had a sleek thin body, compared to the others. But it was definitely not weak. Its entire body was pure muscle. Not a shred of fat on it, Nabooru guessed. There were long green streaks around its upper arms, legs, chest and snout. They almost glowed in the dim light.

The Moblin reminded her of . . . Ganondorf. If he had an animal form, he would look like this. Only hotter. And less of the mega-nose.

The Moblin completely ignored her. It turned to Ganondorf. "Why are you here?" it asked. At least, that's what Nabooru thought it had asked. It sounded more like, "Hrrrrrry arrrrrrrrrr oooooooo yirrrr?"

Ganondorf, apparently, knew exactly what the Moblin had said. "We're here to get out of the storm." He spoke slowly and carefully.

"We?"

Nabooru rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm here too! Lucky me!" She waved her arms around with exaggerated enthusiasm.

The Moblin missed the sarcasm, however, and glared at Ganondorf. "What is it doing here?"

_It!_ She crossed her arms and leaned back.

"It is with me," he replied.

Nabooru sighed, and elbowed him in the side. "Some king _you _are," she hissed, then added to the Moblin leader, "_It's_ name is Nabooru. Nah-BOOR-ooh!"

"What is it trying to say?"

All right. Enough was enough. She stepped up, so that her face was in his, and shouted, "I AM NOT AN 'IT!'"

The leader snarled at her, drawing a long, wicked-looking blade. Ganondorf put a hand on each of their arms, a rather brave thing to do. He was getting in the way of two dangerous animals.

"I'm sorry, Isethaginhutsbulil," he said quickly, pulling Nabooru away. "My . . . friend is rather excitable. She meant no harm, I'm sure."

"Yeah, no harm," she muttered darkly. "But I sure mean it harm now, the cocky, stupid--"

"She's also crazy," he added, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Veerryy crazy. Nutso. Don't listen to a word she says. And don't hurt her!"

The Moblin had made to slash her throat. Ganondorf leapt in between them.

"Yeah, she's wacked. She has no clue what's coming out of her mouth. It's a sickness, in fact."

"We kill sick."

This was getting happier and happier.

"We don't kill the sick. She'll get better. Just . . . ignore her."

He gently removed his hand, then threw her back against the wall. "Stay here," he muttered, his cheerfulness gone. Nabooru lifted her chin defiantly.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't."

He slammed his palm into the wall above her head, making it shudder. "No. You _will. _No doing whatever you want to, no doing what you think is right. _Don't move." _One hand on the wall above her, the other by her hip, she was caged in. His face, hard and cold, was inches from hers. She nodded hesitantly.

Breathing hard, as though he'd been running, Ganondorf pulled away from her. He glared down at the ground, and Nabooru felt confused. What was that? Where was the stupidly sweet, pushover king-to-be she liked so much?

Oh, well. It wasn't like she'd _listen_ to him, anyway. And then he'd snap out of his weird little funk, and everyone would be happy. Even though he was the King, he hadn't actually _made _her do anything. It was more like a warning.

As though he'd heard her thoughts, he glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression still unyielding. "That's an _order."_

_What? _Ganondorf didn't give orders.

A Moblin swung his hammer at the wall she was resting at. It left a huge dent right next to her head. She felt the wind of it as he swung again.

She had the feeling it was deliberate.

Her fingers danced over the hilt of her sword, but she didn't move. She was frozen in place, by Ganondorf's attitude and his order, as effective as any spell.

The elders always said the order of a King meant to die if need be. A physical force, this loyalty, they'd insisted.

She had scoffed, wondering why anyone would risk anything, especially for a stupid King? He could watch his own back.

But now she watched as the Moblins shoved her, kicked her, hit her, all on "accident," when she normally would have shown them how well she could fight.

WHAM. The Moblin hit the wall again, making it shudder, and she jumped. The others laughed, a grunting, squealing sound. She held her head high, glaring at them all boldly.

She wouldn't react to them.

Stupid Ganondorf.

Stupid Gerudo.

Stupid Moblins.

Stupid _her._

The Moblin drew back his arm and hit the wall with all his might.

Another threw a rock at her, cutting into her chest painfully.

She flinched.

* * *

_Blood._

What?

The words came again, louder and stronger.

_Blood._

Oh, no.

Demi wrapped his arms around himself, shivering.

The Dark Triforce was back.

He struggled to wake up, fighting out of a fog. But it grabbed onto him, forcing the fog all around him even more. He was losing.

What dream was it going to be this time?

He'd never realized that the Dark Triforce had been with him the whole time. It had spelled out its presence clearly. Dreams of pain, of despair, of torture.

Who else, but the friendly neighborhood evil spirit?

His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. Even though he was asleep, he could feel the dents in his palms.

He sank, spiraling down into some unknown horror, knowing it wasn't going to be pretty.

* * *

Jade ran the cool water over her arms. She glanced up at the old wooden clock. Nearly midnight. She groaned, knowing how tired she was going to be later. 

Picking up a glass, she filled it to the brim with clear water, then tilted her head back and swallowed it in one gulp.

_Are you okay? _She asked herself, then stopped to think.

Maybe. At least the shaking had stopped.

She leaned forward, bending her head down so that her hair (what little of it she had; she was trying to grow it out) dangled in the sink. She stared into her reflection. Dark red eyes glared back at her sullenly. She ran her hands through her hair, getting it all wet. All that accomplished was getting her hair to stand up on end. Her skin was pale, and she scolded herself.

_What is the matter with you? _She demanded. _Stop it. Whatever you're thinking--_of course, she knew exactly what she was thinking--_don't. Just sleep. Sleep and stop thinking. _

Jade nodded at her reflection, like they had been having a conversation.

Ok. She checked herself, tugging on the bottom of her nightshirt (which was technically a nightgown died black). Good, she was decent.

Inside and out.

A blush colored her cheeks as she flashed back onto the dream she'd been having.

_No. This will very quickly turn ugly._

It wasn't exactly easy to forget, though. She felt Dimitri's strong arms around her waist, and saw his eyes, inviting but serious, tempting but kind.

Her arms shook, then gave way beneath her. Her head hit the porcelain sink with a clunk.

_See? I told you to stop it. _

She splashed cool water onto her face until she felt the blush fade.

She closed her eyes again and breathed deeply, hoping it would settle her heartbeat. Inexplicably it had sped up. Weird.

She fell back against the wall. She felt a shudder run through her body, and in an instant she remembered the dream in detail.

Rather vivid detail.

Jade's eyes opened wide. She put a fluttering hand on her breastbone, her breath coming out ragged and harsh.

Eyes closed: BAD.

There was a strange pounding in her head, and when she rested her fingers on her wrist for a pulse, her veins were practically throbbing. Her heart was thudding erratically.

She glanced back at the door, pulling up her nightshirt around her shoulders. It was big on her (she hadn't been eating very well, what with her trying to be a vegetarian and the fact that every time she sat down, her mother started in on her). It fell down all the time, and the second she had it positioned, it slid back off her shoulder.

Jade clenched her hands into fists, banging her head against the wall. Thud. Thud. Thud.

_Don't think. Don't think. Don't think._

She realized the door had been open slightly. A crack of light shone through from the hallway. She also realized she'd forgotten to turn the light on.

She was standing in semi-darkness, with her shirt half-falling off her . . .

_No. Not good._

If Demi had happened to walk in . . . would he have . . . ?

_What is the matter with you? Stop it. Now._

In her half-dazed, confused state, would _she _have . . . ?

_That's enough! _

Jade blinked and looked down at the floor. Her cheeks flushed with shame, embarrassed even though she was alone.

Sleep. With sleep everything would be better. Yes. Sleep.

She bit her lip, but lifted her chin and kept her eyes riveted on her bedroom door. Past her mother's room, past the linen closet.

Past Dimitri's room. Her knees began to tremble violently, but she continued on, pressing her hand against the wall to steady herself.

From inside his room, Jade could hear some sort of crying. Or moaning. She pressed her ear to the door, listening intently.

There was definitely something inside. She opened the door a tiny bit.

He was asleep. She could see him tossing and turning on the bed, his legs moving as though he was trying to run. She could hear him mumbling something.

"No . . ."

She stared at him, wary concern rooting her to the door. She didn't want to leave, but at the same time she was afraid to get any closer.

"_No_ . . ."

Finally she couldn't take it. She closed the door quietly, and rested her hand on the doorknob.

She could still hear him, and part of her cried with him. She shuddered, pressing her forehead to the glossy wood.

_Walk away, _the voice in her head advised. _You don't know him, you have no relationship. Just walk away, back to your room. _

Jade didn't move, though. Her body wasn't willing to respond. He was only a few feet away . . .

_Oh, for Din's sake! You're standing here, TOTALLY in love with some idiot you don't even know, feeling bad because he's having a nightmare, and getting turned on by a freakin' DOOR! Don't you see how messed up that is?_

She smiled ruefully. "I _am_ messed up," she whispered, closing her eyes with a sigh. She pushed off the door and made her way back to her room.

Opening her door, though, she took one look at her bed, witch was soaked through with sweat. Her blankets had fallen off and were laying in a heap on the floor. She glanced back at Demi's room.

Somewhere he was lost in his own nightmare, tormented by something or other, somewhere she couldn't reach him. Somewhere she wasn't there to save him.

_Not your problem, _her voice whispered.

He was a stupid kid, trapped by evil, unable to escape. Lost and afraid, but suddenly more important to her than anyone else.

_Not your problem._

She entered her room and closed the door.

* * *

_Black._

_Pure black. Blacker than the middle of the night, without a moon or stars, in a bottomless pit, with his eyes closed. _

_Demi winced. It wouldn't stay black for long. It never did. _

_A second later, everything around him exploded into white. His eyes burned and watered, but he couldn't close them. _

_In the center of the whiteness, there was a circle. It was perfectly round, and blood red. In the center of this circle were two eyes, comically small on its enormous red face, little slits of yellow. _

_Evil eyes. They scanned all around, searching for something. _

_There was no way they'd miss him, but he shrank back anyway. _

Please no, _he thought fervently. _Don't see me, don't take me, leave me alone.

_It's eyes landed on him that precise instant. Was he _making _these things happen?_

_No. The Dark Triforce could read his thoughts. And this was meant to send some message, so it would make sure everything happened in the most painful way possible._

_That was how it worked. _

_The . . . thing smiled. Only it didn't have a mouth. A black gash opened in its face and appeared to smile._

_It rushed for him, yellowed teeth bared. It didn't matter that there shouldn't have been teeth. _

_All that mattered was that it was going to take him, take him away and hurt him. _

_He leapt back, dodging the monster._

_Well, that was one question answered. Sometimes he couldn't move, and sometimes he had his normal agility, depending on what the Dark Triforce was in the mood for. _

_And this time Dimitri was meant to suffer. _

_The teeth scraped on his leg. Blood spurted out, red as the creature. He cried out in pain. Even in the dream, the pain was real, probably magnified for his benefit. _

_The monster turned quickly and charged again. Demi twisted, and barely missed being disemboweled. _

_But it grabbed the already injured leg in its teeth, and began dragging him away. He scrabbled wildly, reaching for nothing. There was nothing but whiteness, and they were suspended in midair. No way for him to be saved. _

What do you want! _He shouted over the pain. _What do you want me to learn!

_There was a lesson in all this. But what was it?_

_He was pulled away, away from the whiteness. He was dragged for what felt like hours, an endless trail of agony. But he welcomed it. It would be much less than what was to come._

_Finally the whiteness was left behind them. He was plunged back into darkness. But it wasn't the total blackness from before. _

_Demi knew what was coming. He tried to break away, desperate for the whiteness. The monster dragged him forward. _

_Behind them, the whiteness disappeared, leaving behind a black stone wall. _

_The monster threw him into a room and slammed the gate shut, locking it behind him. Laughing, it faded away. _

_Demi pressed himself back against the wall, glancing around him. _

_A dungeon. He was in a cell. Just like before. The Dark Triforce wasn't one for variety._

_There was someone else in the cell with him. He hoped it was male. Somehow he felt better about . . . things, than when the other prisoner was a woman. _

_The figure was crouched on the floor. It looked up, and Demi was relieved to see a man look up at him. _

_He was probably only thirty, but he looked only twenty as he smiled at him, his grimy face shining with hope and tears. Or at least gratitude that he wasn't alone._

_"What did you do?" he asked. _

_Demi shrugged. What could he say? 'Nothing. I'm just lucky?' That wouldn't go over well. He turned away, staring intently at the wall. _

_"Are you okay?" the man wondered, stepping closer. Dimitri's eyes stung, and he shook his head miserably._

_He felt a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. They don't do anything with us. And, with the state our country's in, it's like living at home, anyway." He grinned rakishly. "And the food's better." _

_Where were they? _When _were they?_

_"And I'm here. I'm pretty okay. I won't eat you or anything. I'm Rosu, by the way."_

_Demi shoved him away, angry. At the Dark Triforce, at the strange red thing, at Rosu. Why did the Dark Triforce have to make the prisoners so good? This man didn't do anything, and he'd . . ._

_Rosu held up his hands and backed away. "Sorry," he said, and truly sounded regretful. "I'll be over here if you need me." _

_Dimitri didn't talk to him. It was easier when he denied their existence. _

_The silence was broken by the jangle of keys, and the scraping of metal on metal. Rosu stepped forward, probably expecting food. His innocence made Demi even more desperate to protect him._

_Demi lunged forward. "NO!" He grabbed Rosu's hand and tried to pull him back into the cell. Rosu had realized something bad was happening. He stepped back, trying to reach the safety of the cell, but the man--a tall, formidable person whose entire body was covered in black--took hold of him and yanked him out. _

_Demi refused to break his grip, fighting against the executioner. Or whatever he was._

_Rosu looked up at Demi and gently pulled his wrist away from him. "It's okay," he said softly. "I'll be fine." But his eyes told another story entirely. He was giving up, resigning himself to his fate, and trying to protect the kid he'd never known, who was eleven years younger than him._

_"You don't understand," Dimitri pleaded._

_"I do." With that, Rosu let himself be led away. _

_Dimitri paced around the small cell, covering his ears with his hands. _Please, please, please. _He repeated the prayer over and over. _

_An anguished cry cut through the air, coming from the direction Rosu had disappeared. _

_He sank to his knees, pressing his palms harder against his ears. But he couldn't block out the tortured screams. He could only imagine what was happening; he couldn't see. Somehow it was worse not knowing. To picture it . . . and to hear the screams . . . He closed his eyes._

_"Aaah! Aaah!"_

_His head was going to explode from the pressure of his hands. He shoved harder, trying to squeeze the images out of his brain._

_"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh--" The scream was brutally cut off. It was a mixed blessing. Barely a blessing at all. The cry was gone, and all that was left was a faint echo, and the ringing in his ears. However, that meant two things: Rosu was dead, and it was his turn next. _

_When the executioner man returned, Demi held out his arm. There was no point in fighting. There would be fighting later. He needed his energy to fight the pain. He noticed the man had dark red bloodstains on his tunic. It made him want to throw up._

_He was led back to where Rosu had gone. Lying on the floor, bugs already beginning to enjoy his corpse, was Rosu. The marks on his body . . . Demi couldn't look. He couldn't see what would happen to him. _

_But his eyes were drawn back. The body was barely recognizable. It was covered in gashes six inches deep, bruises and scorch marks. That, however, were the best-looking of them all. Around his thumbs were strange devices. A rusted metal tool was stabbed directly through each thumb. Nails, daggers, and anything else they could get their hands on stuck out of him. He was a human pincushion. _

_The man, not looking especially pleased, but not regretful, took out a long whip. There were smaller whips on the end, five in all. To each end he attached a piece of broken pottery. He laid that on the table. Picking up a broadsword, he screwed on something that looked like razor-edged kitchen appliances. The type that were meant to mix food. Demi felt sick just looking at it. He knew what that did. It stabbed through the body, impaling it. Then the man would only have to turn the sword around, and the mixers would . . ._

_Resting that on the table, the man pulled out many--Goddess, so many--tools, each looking more painful than the last._

_Finally the man chose the second one. Had it been any one but that, he might have been able to be strong. But something in him snapped, and Demi collapsed on the ground in front of him. He felt cowardly, but he couldn't help it. He knew that the preparing-of-the-torture-devices the supposed to panic the victim. It worked._

_"No," he whispered. He was begging now, his body controlled by the fear. The gut-wrenching panic was chewing up his insides more than the sword-mixer-thing would. "Please . . . please. Don't kill me. Don't come near me with that. DON'T TOUCH ME!" His pleas rose to a near-shriek, and he scrambled backward._

_Emotionlessly, the man picked up Dimitri, holding him upright. Dimitri cried and shouted and fought with all his might, but in the end he was tied to the wall, thrashing wildly against the chain bonds. _

_The man slowly, barely noticing Demi as he cruelly drew out the process, lined up the sword with his navel. Demi sucked in his stomach and twisted to the side, trying to avoid it. His mind was screaming in panic, unable to think._

_He might have moved an inch. Not important at all. _

_The man slammed forward. The sword neatly entered him, exploding out the other side. The razor-mixers weren't so clean. They tore through skin and muscle, tearing up everything it passed through._

_He screamed, arching his back, his muscles spazzing uncontrollably. His body wasn't his own anymore._

_The executioner began twisting the sword around._

_His mind in a fog, Demi just cried in agony, unable to control himself. _

_The pain . . . there wasn't supposed to be pain in dreams. It was so real. So vivid. Every detail was perfect. There was no difference between sleep and waking. _

_Blood was pouring out of his side. He ignored it, crying out again and again as the man chose a different device._

_Before he passed out, Dimitri realized he knew the message. The lesson he had to learn. The Dark Triforce laughed, satisfied. _

You are helpless.

* * *

"Aaaaahh! Aaaahhh! Aaaaaaahhh!" 

Mela heard the shouts, and she bolted out of bed, hurrying toward the sound.

It was Dimitri. It had to be. Such a shame, a kind boy like him suffering so much. She had to wake him up, to release him from whatever nightmare plagued him.

She opened her door quietly, peering out. But she stopped herself, slipping back inside quietly.

Jade barreled past her door, hurrying toward Dimitri's room. Mela smiled to herself.

They'd . . . comfort each other. She was sure of it.

She closed her door, leaving the two alone.

* * *

A few minutes before Mela had seen her, Jade was awakened by the same dream as before. She rested her head in her knees, knowing better than to go back into the bathroom. 

She'd brought a pitcher-sized glass of water into the room with her. It was sitting on her nightstand. With shaking hands, she picked it up, taking a sip of it.

She didn't feel any better. It didn't slow her pounding heart, and it didn't keep little tingles from dancing over her body. Impatient with herself, she lifted the glass of water over her head and dumped it on her.

She was immediately soaked thoroughly. The shirt she'd been wearing was sopping wet and dripping onto the sheets, which were just as drenched.

"Stupid," she muttered, going over to her dresser to pick up another nightshirt. "Stupid, stupid, oh dammit." There were no black shirts left. Mela must have worked hard to remove the black dye. All that were left were white nightgowns. Annoyed, she stepped into one, ruing the short length and frills. Wiping her water-covered face with her just-as-wet arm, she turned, ready to collapse on her bed.

Then she heard it.

"No . . ."

She stopped at the door. Her heart went out to him. The moan was so much more pathetic than the others.

Jade placed her hand on the doorknob, torn between going to him and climbing into her bed.

Then he started screaming. Agony-filled screams, the kind that make your blood boil and your heart break.

She threw open the door and sprinted to his room. She had to stop the shouting. She barely paused to think about the fact that she was wearing a white, _wet _nightgown of frighteningly short length. It didn't matter.

"Aaaahh!"

Jade threw open the door, collapsing next to Demi, placing one hand on his forehead and another on his chest. "Demi! Wake up!" she hissed, shaking him a little. His screams quieted, but he let out a little pitiful noise, and whispered, "No. Please . . ."

What was wrong? Why wouldn't he break free of his dream?

"No . . ." he whispered again.

"Come on, dammit. Wake up."

There was no response, but his heartbeat sped up. She could feel it through his shirt.

She leaned over him. His brow was furrowed, and a single tear made its way down his cheek._

* * *

_

Dimitri forced himself awake. The pain from his dream was fading away, but real enough for him to be concerned. He lay back, breathing hard.

Something cool was pressed against his forehead. It was lessening the pain. Opening his eyes, he looked up into Jade's worried face. She was looking down on him without any of her coldness. The thing on his forehead was her hand. It was wet, for some reason. Water from her hair dripped onto his face and neck. Pressure on his chest let him know she was using him for support.

Suddenly a jab of pain shot through him. Oh, no. Was his stomach . . . ? He was too afraid to look. The too-familiar panic made his chest feel tight. "Am I . . . is my stomach . . .I'm not . . .?"

Apparently Jade understood, for she stepped away. The pain decreased for a second as the sheets were lifted away. He could feel it as his shirt lifted up. "No," she answered, her voice sounding strange. "You're fine."

The Dark Triforce loosened its hold. The pain disappeared, and was replaced by a wave of relief, almost as crippling as the pain.

Jade settled into a chair next to the bed, looking wet, tired, and disgruntled. She had a weird expression on her face. A lock of her black hair flopped onto her forehead, plastered there by water. Her cheeks were pink, for some reason he was too happy to wonder at. Her red eyes were half-mast from exhaustion.

In that instant, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

With a shout of joy, Demi practically lunged forward. Jade barely managed to catch him. He wrapped his arms around her, laughing and crying.

"I'm alive," he managed. "I'm alive."

She held him tightly, and they rocked back in forth. They stayed that way for a long time. Once Demi was in control of his emotions, he pulled back. Jade looked at him. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm better than okay," he whispered, accepting that he was alive and no longer in agony. The dungeon wasn't real. He was here.

Safe.

They stared at each other. Jade's arms were still on his shoulders, and his around her waist. Once again he was struck by her beauty.

He brushed her hair behind her ear, feeling her shiver at his touch. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome."

He kissed her cheek, planning to get her out of the room quickly. He froze, then slowly pulled back.

When he'd touched her, there was a definite . . . something.

He wasn't sure he disliked it.

* * *

Jade was still, not breathing. The only thing moving was her heart, which was pounding like crazy. 

He'd kissed her! Part of her was mentally screaming that, over and over. That part wanted to kiss him. For real.

The other part of her was telling her to leave. Fast. _This is trouble,_ it warned. _Don't get into anything you can't handle._

As these two battled it out, Jade sat. And stared. At Demi, who was doing the exact same thing.

It felt like hours passed as they sat there. An ironic little voice in her head muttered, 'Well, _this _is fun.'

He took her face in his hands and pulled her closer. She held on to him, finding it hard to breathe again.

_Kiss me! Kiss me! _She thought, her brain frozen, save that one plea.

He did. Her head spun like some possessed merry-go-round. She felt dizzy. She was ecstatic. She was scared. Her entire body trembled and she pushed her lips harder against his. She felt his surprise, but he responded with equal passion. She was warm and cold and wary and confused. But she couldn't break away, because above all that mixed-up bindle of emotion was pleasure. She liked him, maybe even loved him, and she was happy, so that was all that was important.

* * *

Demi was surprised about Jade. His only romantic experiences were fleeting kisses every now and then. Nothing like . . . this. _This _was a completely different experience. He wasn't totally sure he could handle it. Her . . . desire made him feel slightly disoriented. 

He was stunned, but not displeased. So he took her hands and pulled her backwards, so they were both sitting on the bed. He decided not to worry about it. Besides, he was having trouble concentrating on any one thought.

Jade pushed him back against the headboard, kissing him on the cheek, the neck, the lips. She tangled her hands in his hair, sliding them down to his shoulders, then his waist. He closed his eyes and sighed, surrendering himself to whatever was going to happen.

Suddenly she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. They sat like that for a moment, both breathing hard, before she climbed off the bed. "I'll be right back," she mouthed. She stood and went to the door, opening it quietly, then left.

_Probably to check on her mother, _he figured. He leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair.

What was he getting into? Zelda--

No. He shook his head. No thoughts of Zelda.

Jade returned, closing the door behind her and locking it. She grinned sheepishly at him.

Wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck, he thought, _No going back now.

* * *

_

Mela heard the door to Dimitri's room open, and shrank away from the door. She listened to the sound of footsteps as they approached. She resisted laughing. _Jade, _she thought. Coming to make sure her dear old mum was asleep.

She wasn't upset. Not really. There was no stopping them. And Dimitri was as nice a boy as you could get. But she still felt uneasy, realizing the gossip this was going to raise.

_"You're daughter's got quite a reputation . . . you'd better keep an eye on her . . ."_

Mela sighed. She loved her daughter, and desperately wished the rumors were untrue. Deep in her heart, she didn't believe them. But still, those women had to get their information from someone.

Fortunately, Jade had few all-night excursions, and she'd never done this before, so if the rumors were true, they were definitely exaggerated.

The footsteps retreated, and the door closed. Mela opened her door to hear the grating of a bolt falling into place. Again she smiled.

Didn't want anyone sneaking up on them, huh? Well, Mela would make sure to stay away from there. FAR away. She went back to her bed, sticking earplugs in her ears, thinking about how sweet Dimitri was, compared to Jade's father.

She closed her eyes and snuggled under her blankets.

_Kids, _she thought. _Be careful._

She hoped Jade would think of her father and mother, and what happened to them, before she gave her heart to a man.

_Jade: make sure you know what you're doing.

* * *

Gah! That didn't come out the way I wanted it. The words are so . .. corny! Passion? Desire? AAAH! breahing hard, looking for something to tear to shreds If you feel like helping me with wording, I'd be so happy. _

Ooh. Well, it's 'T,' not 'K.'

Wasn't that fun? It was, actually, for me. A little.


	22. So Close to Perfection

Whoo-hoo! I'm so cool! Look at all those chapters I put up! YAY!

**_

* * *

_**

**_Chapter Twelve_**

Zelda was dressed in a brilliant blue dress that swirled around her ankles and had sleeves that fell off her shoulders. After many adjustments a maid took pity on her and informed her that the dress was supposed to look like that. Her dress had an overskirt that was some sort of transparent blue meshy stuff. That was what also made up the sleeves. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun around the nape of her neck, and stray wisps that fell out framed her face. One woman had placed a tiny white rose in her hair, weaving it into the bun. Her only jewelry were tiny silver earrings. He had asked for no more. He had a special gift for her. Tiny blue beads lined the edge of the overskirt. White gloves covered her hands, ending just above the elbow.

She was, in a word, beautiful.

In three, beautiful and annoyed. As she stepped out of the room, Daphnes saw her throw a longing look at the bedroom.

Once she'd joined him, he slipped a necklace around her neck, being careful of her hair and the flower, which surrounded her hair like a halo. It was the Zora's Sapphire, threaded onto a silver chain. To his surprise, it actually went with her dress. He was dressed in a black suit. Well, that's what he called it. Had he bothered to ask Mrs. Peeve or his mother, they would have yammered on about how it was the semiformal royal dress suit of Sir Rupert Something-or-other, made of velvet and blah blah blah. It was clothes; he wore them. That was it, in his opinion. Around his neck, on a gold chain, was the Kokiri's Emerald. He had white gloves, too, but they only covered his hands, and not his whole stupid arm. Zelda glared at them resentfully, thinking about how much better it would be to wear Daphnes' clothes.

"When did you get the Emerald?"

"When you ran off after Impa. Ryad handed it to me, and said that he had no use for it, and Jaysia . . ." He trailed off uncomfortably. "So he gave it to me. Knew I was going after the Triforce, and so . . . yeah."

He held out his hand, and she took it, marveling at the sudden elegance he held in his posture and trying to mirror it. When they were running--and fighting--for their lives, she'd never noticed how he had an air of confidence that was shown in his movements and expression. It was so easy to forget he was royalty. She sighed sadly. Royalty--something she could never be.

Daphnes frowned at her in confusion, and she smiled quickly, ignoring the discomfort of her clothes and makeup. "Where are we going? Why are we dressed like this? Did you find anything out about the Triforce? What are we doing?" She asked the questions mostly to distract him.

He held up his free hand and held it to his lips. "Shh," he said soothingly. "I think you need a break from everything."

Zelda snorted, then blushed. She forgot she was supposed to be a 'lady.' "'A break?'" she quoted with disdain. "I'm all covered in makeup and my hair's just got--" she struggled to find a sufficient word-- "problems. My dress . . ." she trailed off again, and merely tugged on the sleeves, which had fallen around her elbows. "And you find this _relaxing." _She shook her head at his stupidity, slightly embarrassed at her little rant, and the fact that she was having trouble talking. Words were escaping her. There wasn't anything she could do about it. That didn't change the fact that she felt like an idiot.

Daphnes, apparently, wasn't disgusted at her. He was laughing, his boyish, somewhat chubby face lighting up with a wide grin.

"You find my distress amusing?" Zelda demanded with mock incredulity. He nodded, his shoulders shaking. "I'm offended," she informed him, waggling her finger at him.

He shrugged, and shifted his position so that their arms were linked, but they were still holding hands. "I'll be good," he promised, struggling to keep a straight face.

"Really?"

"Really." He bit his lip and glanced away. But she could tell by his profile that he was laughing again.

She softened her tone, a smile spreading across her face. It was a relief to see Daphnes so happy. He hadn't been in such a good mood since . . . since she'd ever known him. "So. What are we going off to? Or is it just your plan to have us walk through the castle indefinitely?"

"Well, I think that maybe--just maybe--you should sleep. And eat, both of which are good things. I'm a little worried, though--" he added, glancing at her. "You seem to avoid any and all things that are good for you."

"I do not! I ate only . . . Well, I've only been awake for . . . I don't avoid things that are good for me!"

He shook his head, brushing a strand of shaggy hair away from his face. "Anyway, my mother--bless her, the old coot--decided that she'd have a dancey-dinnery-ball thing. It's because we made some ally whose incredibly rich or whatever. Something like that."

Zelda rolled her eyes at him. "You're gonna make one hell of a king. Don't you think you should what this _thing _you're dragging me to is?"

"Hey, I spent all my time chasing a certain incredibly stupid blond girl who insisted on getting herself killed. Besides, I wouldn't be alone. I'd get married."

She thought about that for a while, ignoring Daphnes' eyes on her. Did that mean he wanted to marry _her? _It seemed impossible, but . . . Maybe he didn't want her getting the wrong idea, and was letting her know he was going to marry some princess. Strangely, that thought made her upset.

"Zel." His voice startled her. She turned to look at him, and watched as he pulled away from her and walked across the room. A large crate was positioned in the corner of the entrance hall. She hadn't noticed that was where they were. He disappeared for a second, after holding up his hand. "Stay back," he cautioned. "And look up."

She tilted her head back obediently. "What am I looking at?" she asked with a laugh. "There's a dirty ceiling--Goddess, that's a lot of dirt. And let's see, hmm . . . millions of cobwebs, and a weird shadowy thing. Your ceilings too high," she complained, squinting.

"Focus on the shadowy thing."

Zelda did, trying to figure out what she was supposed to see. The cobwebs were all in the way, though. They were spread all across the ceiling.

She shouted, and almost fell backward. "Whoa!"

The shadow had suddenly erupted in a burst of light. It was an old chandelier. The light wasn't coming from any flames, and the light glittered and danced over the walls.

"How did you do that?" she breathed, gaping up at the ceiling.

He took her hand and pulled her back, sitting her on the crate. The cobwebs were less dense here, and she could see more.

"See that?" Daphnes pointed at a large metallic sphere, dangling from a metal chain. It spun around. "Those candles are some sort of crystal. Myran--" it took Zelda a moment to remember who that was-- "got them for me, when he went to some other land. No clue where, but I noticed that some crystals seemed to light up when touched by the thing. I think it's a magnet. The crystals are phanaiymite." He shrugged at her puzzled expression. "No, I didn't think you'd heard of them. They're really rare, from some place to the North. If I pull on this--" he yanked on a thin rope. Vibrations traveled from the rope along the wall, over the ceiling, to the chain, to the magnet. The magnet swung even more. "--The magnet swings. It'll move like that for the rest of the night. There's something in the crystal that attracts it. Anyway, it lights up the spiderwebs--that's why I hate it when the maids clean up there."

Zelda couldn't take her eyes off it. As they walked into the ballroom, she craned her neck back to see it.

Daphnes touched her elbow, and she linked arms with him again, trying again to look graceful, feeling a little pit of anxiety in her stomach. She stiffened, and lowered her head.

He leaned over to her. "You look beautiful. Don't worry. They'll love you. Just . . . be yourself."

Zelda smirked. "But not too much," she finished.

"Not too much," he laughed in agreement.

She stopped at the door. Her muscles froze.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're scared."

"Yep."

"How can you possibly be scared? It's just a dinner. There's food, there's dancing--"

"I can't dance."

"What?"

"Dancing: not good. Unless you happen to _like _Gorons."

"Gorons can dance, sort of."

"Fine. One-legged Gorons."

"Uh . . ."

"One-legged Gorons whose other leg is a tree stump and--"

He rolled his eyes at her. "You're usually so confident."

"I _am_ confident. I'm confident that I'll fall on my face."

"Just think: however stupid you look, I'll look worse. And if you're really that bad, I'll immediately do something. Like dance on the tables or shove raspberries up my nose."

"Wouldn't people be alarmed that their future king is dancing on tables?"

"Not really. After my mother, and the other things I've done, I'll look damn civilized."

Zelda turned and stared at him. "What else have you done?"

He grinned impishly. "These parties aren't all that interesting . . ."

She giggled softly, and they entered the room.

* * *

"What did they say?" Nabooru muttered to Ganondorf as they wandered out into the desert. She was cautious, but not afraid. 

"They said they wanted to know why we were here, and that they were ready to battle when I give the word," he replied coolly.

She nodded, and glared straight ahead as they made their way back to the Fortress. Finally Ganondorf sighed.

"I'm sorry, Nabooru."

"For what?" she asked innocently.

He sighed. "I just said I was sorry. Don't make it any more humiliating."

"All right, if you say so . . ."

He whirled around to face her, his eyes flashing. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, and ordering you to stay, and I wanted to thank you for doing what you were told for once, and I wish you'd think about other people for a change, instead of doing what you want!"

Nabooru smiled. "I'm glad you got that off your chest."

Ganondorf's expression didn't soften, and he stormed off, kicking up sand. Confidently--and because she couldn't find the way to the Fortress on her own--she followed him.

She took his arm. "Hey," she said. "What's going on with you?"

"Oh, I don't know," he began conversationally. "Maybe because I have to feed and populate an entire race, _all by myself, _not to mention that there's a freaking country mad at me because they refuse to help us, not even letting us into their Market. The worst part is, though, that my 'mothers' are possessing my girlfriend--kind of, and she's too bullhead, stubborn, self-centered, and just damn frustrating, to do what she's told!" The words came out in a rush, and Ganondorf looked deflated afterward. Nabooru wasn't sure what to say about that, so she stepped under his arm and hugged him around the waist.

Maybe it was because no Gerudo considered him equal, and would never dare to come near him, let alone hug him, to make him feel better. Ganondorf smiled down at her, and squeezed her shoulder.

After a long silence, Nabooru looked up at him. "I'm bullheaded, huh?" she asked with a smirk.

"Very," Ganondorf answered. "Maybe you should practice being docile."

"I could," she agreed thoughtfully. "But then I'd be a good little Gerudo, and before you knew it, I'd be 'yes-sirring' and 'no-sirring' you every time you told me to do something. I wouldn't challenge you at all, and I wouldn't be the irritating spoiled brat you fell in love with."

He stiffened. She pulled back warily, looking up at him. "I'm sorry, your Highness," she murmured, thinking that might help.

"No," he whispered. "I wouldn't like that at all." And he looked down at her seriously, his eyes wide in awe. He really thought she was amazing, something special and unusual. He pulled her closer, and they made their way (though with difficulty) back to the Fortress.

* * *

Jade woke up, feeling a sense of peace. There were blankets all around, and her brain was still foggy. This wasn't her bed. Where was she? Light streamed in from the windows, so she knew it was morning. And she was alone. That didn't help her remember. Her head felt like it had been beaten with a sledgehammer. She must not have gotten a lot of sleep. 

She sat up, and saw her nightgown laying half under the bed. She wasn't in it. She was naked? _I'm naked? _

Once glance down answered that question.

Oh, Din. She sank back, remembering, and wrapped her arms around herself, pulling up the blankets around her chin. Her face was red, which had become all too familiar lately.

"Demi?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He wasn't in the room. Surrendering the shelter of the bed, she leapt down and grabbed her nightgown. She pulled it over her head quickly, feeling infinitely safer with it on, even though it was still damp. It must have been wetter than she'd thought the night before.

She stared around the room, and noticed the door was locked. He'd locked it behind him . . . there wasn't a key to this room.

So . . . what? He was figuring she would hang around and let him in? He wasn't planning on coming back, ever?

Jade stepped daintily over a crumpled piece of clothing--Dimitri's shirt. He was somewhere. In pants. Without a shirt.

Maybe he'd just gone to the bathroom, and locked the door behind him . . . so that her mother wouldn't come in! And he didn't think it through. She smiled. That sounded like Demi.

Then she saw something that made her stop cold. Her blood felt like it had been replaced with cold water, and her heart with a block of ice.

All of Demi's things were gone. In their place was a letter. She opened it up and read it. Then she read it again. And again.

Suddenly she threw it on the ground and raced for the door. Her fingers trembled as she clumsily undid the lock. She practically ripped the door off its hinges and thudded down the stairs.

She didn't stop running, even as she rushed out onto the front lawn. There was no sign of him--the only way he could have left was on the boat, to Hyrule.

"Demi!" she screamed, her despair turning into anger. Her icy blood seemed to have been replaced with fire. Her heart was now a white-hot piece of iron, crashing around in her chest. She was afraid it would break a few ribs.

She made it to the boat house, then slowed. She didn't want to go in, didn't want to see him gone. Sighing in defeat, she opened the door.

The boat was still there. Demi was leaning down , sawing through the rope that bound it to the deck.

"Demi," Jade whispered. "No."

She collapsed into his arms and sobbed.

* * *

As they entered, everyone froze, and turned to stare up at them. 

Zelda didn't notice, at first. She was humming darkly under her breath a funeral march (but her eyes were sparkling with pleasure, even as she pretended to frown), and Daphnes was cracking up at her. Their arms and hands were intertwined, and there was a lot less space between them than was considered "proper," unless dancing.

Slowly, though, they noticed. Zelda stiffened, but held her head high. Daphnes looked at all the nobles whose eyes were on them, smirked recklessly, and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head.

Daphnes almost laughed at the nobles' reactions. As one, they gasped, then their eyes widened, their nostrils flared (elegantly, of course), and they began whispering about this display of intimacy.

Zelda's response was less predictable. She pulled away, twisting to look up at him. She didn't look displeased, but she wasn't exactly jumping in the air for joy, either. He jerked his head at his mother, who was in the process of fainting. He sent Zelda a look, and whispered, "Your life will be a lot easier if you get the old woman out of the way."

Zelda widened her eyes innocently. "That's your mother you're talking about," she muttered sternly. "I wouldn't dare do anything to upset her." She waited a moment, then added, "However, I might, for no reason, just do _this." _With her free hand, she touched the side of his face, and gently brushed her lips against his. He concentrated on keeping his knees from wobbling. When she pulled away, they both made their way toward the King and Queen. Two seats were left available for them. He helped her into her chair, then turned to the King. "What happened to Mother?" he asked softly, stroking the unconscious woman's face.

The King crossed his arms. "You know exactly what happened to her," he accused, then laughed, a harsh bark that was strangely comforting. "That was pretty funny," he admitted. "But do you think you might go easy on Doris, at least until you're married?"

Zelda, who had been talking to a noble, whirled around and almost fell out of her chair. "What?" she gasped.

Myran seemed to have realized that he'd done something wrong, and began mumbling about Doris needing ice.

Zelda leaned forward. "What was he talking about?"

Daphnes shrugged helplessly. It was not a good sign that Zelda reacted so strongly . . . and looked so panicked.

"Nothing," he soothed finally. "He didn't mean a thing about it. He babbles. He's slightly insane, even."

She nodded, wrinkling her brow and looking unconvinced. She was distracted, however, by the large platters of food placed on the table. "Food!" she cried excitedly. "I haven't eaten in so long."

Daphnes quickly put a hand over hers as she rushed to grab a piece of bread. Once again, every person in the room turned to look at them. Daphnes pulled her arms back gently, then wrapped an arm around her waist. The King just laughed.

"The lady's hungry," he said delightedly. "All right, I'll keep this short, so she can eat." His tone grew monotonous, as it was supposed to be for speeches. "I would like to make a toast to the King and Queen of Ryia, and to the alliance we made twenty years ago with the wonderful country. We are all here today to celebrate that alliance." He looked around the room. His eyes crinkled up around the corners as he smiled warmly. "I'd also like to raise my glass to my son, the future King of Hyrule. I'm sure he'll be one of the best kings we've ever had. And finally, to his lovely lady." He leaned forward, speaking to Zelda, although everyone was eagerly listening. "Ever since you walked in that door, my boy--" he affectionately tousled Daphnes' hair, "has been a nervous wreck. I've never seen him so happy, or so miserable. Someone so conflicted has to be in love." He nodded, pleased with himself. "To Ryia and Hyrule, wisely entering a bountiful alliance." Everyone lifted up their glasses, looking slightly dazed as they tried to figure out what they were toasting. Daphnes, the prince that had clearly lost his mind? Zelda, the strange blonde woman who was only useful for gossip, and, if they did say so themselves, a bit of a tramp? The alliance, that was basically pointless?

Myran sat back down, gesturing to Zelda and Daphnes. "I think you two should be served first." He seemed to know exactly what the speech was about as he watched the couple. He looked bored with the whole celebration. His only concerns were his son and his wife. Zelda glanced up at him, wondering if he was really cut out for royalty. Then wondering, was she?

Daphnes heaped food onto his plate, looked at Zelda. She was gracefully eating, unconcerned with which fork to eat with, getting it all wrong.

She was listening to Myran as he talked with Doris. "I hope the poor are getting what they need," Myran murmured.

"Oh, I think so," Doris replied.

"What?" Zelda asked, leaning forward. "There are poor? How poor?"

"No homes, no food, nothing." Myran read the horror on her face.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Daphnes turned to face her, his expression determined. "I've been trying," he said. "I'll do it someday. I'll find a way to help everyone."

Zelda nodded. "Good."

Myran leaned over to Doris. "I like Zelda," he said. "She's so real, nothing like the other girls. She'd be good for Daphnes."

"But she's _common_."

Daphnes was interrupted from listening to this when a young woman, twenty, only a year older than them, leaned over to Zelda. "Miss, you're not using the right forks." She looked positively disdainful.

Zelda shrugged. "That's how we eat back home, in my land." She grinned at Daphnes, playing up the whole "noble-from-a-foreign-land" bit.

The woman wrinkled her nose. "Etiquette is the same everywhere."

"I doubt it's _exactly _the same _everywhere." _

"It is." The woman was daintily picking at her own food, glaring at Zelda.

"Maybe, maybe not; have you been everywhere?"

"No."

"Then you wouldn't know, now would you?" Zelda replied, smiling triumphantly. She turned back to her own food, then noticed the woman was still watching her, picking at her salad. "You know, Miss, it's not _good etiquette_ to play with your food."

Zelda adjusted her bun, tucking the flower back into her hair. She turned to Daphnes, who was shaking with silent laughter. "What is with you today?" she asked.

"It's just so funny to see the nobles getting what they deserve for once," he explained.

"No, I mean, all day you've been like this. Every time I see you, you're either really happy or really sad. It's like . . ." She stopped, recognition paling her face. "'Someone so conflicted has to be in love.'" Zelda pulled out the flower, picking its petals off. "I can't _believe_ it. I feel so _stupid. _I thought your dad was _kidding." _She placed her hand on her neck, where the Zora's Sapphire. "You love me?"

He took her hand, grinning. "When didn't I?" Gently helping her to her feet, he whispered, "Don't worry about it now. Let's dance."

"I don't dance," she breathed.

"I think you need to."

She pulled back. "May I go to the bathroom first?" she asked. He nodded, and pointed back the way they'd come. "My room's close by," he said. "It's unlocked. I have a bathroom in there."

Zelda flashed him the ghost of a smile, and hurried off to his room.

She moved slowly, washing her hands ten times slower than she usually did, thinking.

There was no way . . . did Daphnes really love her? _Like_, probably, but _love? _No way. He had been smiling when he'd said, "When didn't I?" He was joking around. He thought it would be funny, and didn't think she'd be so worried. He was just confused. She'd been confused before, about a lot of things, but she hadn't been in love. Hell, she was confused all the time, and she'd never loved anyone she'd been confused about. For the most part.

She got herself angry as she made her way out of the bathroom, still walking slowly. He was trying to get her worried? That he was in love with her? Yeah, right! She wasn't going to fall for that! He thought he was so special, thinking she'd be panicked, thinking it over and over again, not able to concentrate on anything else. Well, that didn't work! She could think about anything, like the color of the stone walls. They were gray, and had dark patches and light patches, like Daphnes' eyes. They were rather beautiful walls, like his eyes.

_How dare he!_ Zelda thought in outrage, pacing. She spotted a book lying open on his bed. _Probably writing about how stupid I am, _she thought to herself as she wandered closer. _Probably writing about how worried I must be. _

_Worried about what, though? _A traitor voice asked. _That he loves you, or that he doesn't? _

She didn't answer herself. Leaning over the paper, she squinted to read his tiny, neat writing. She stopped when she saw her name before leaning in even more eagerly. What did he write about her?

_She looked so irritated, so tired . . . and so beautiful. Her hair, the tangled rat's nest, shone. I swear it has sun weaved into it. Her skin . . . I could go on forever. But I shouldn't. And some of it probably wouldn't be 'proper,' anyway. _

_One of the nobles, Daniel Something, had seen me with her. He asked how I could even be near her! To wonder how I can love her . . . just _look. _She's beautiful, graceful, and so reckless she's going to get herself killed. She's perfect. _

_But she's heartbreaking. I have to ask: Is there any way she can ever love _me, _too? _

There was more. Zelda knew she should go back downstairs, but reading it, so innocent, so _pure, _she couldn't force herself to leave. She could hear his voice as he wrote, her the weary affection as he called her hair a rat's nest, and as he dubbed her "reckless." She could even feel embarrassment. She wondered what would be improper . . .

She bent her head down, eager for more.

* * *

Daphnes tapped his foot against the floor. Where was she? How long did it take girls to pee? He was almost desperate enough to ask one of the ladies, but he bit his tongue. 

Maybe he'd go see. She couldn't still be peeing.

But what if she was? That would just be embarrassing.

What if she didn't want to see him? She might be mad, after he'd said--well, not exactly_ said, _but close enough . . . he had to go see.

Excusing himself, he went after Zelda.

* * *

Zelda blinked back tears, wiping her eyes. 

She couldn't believe it. She was mad at him? For . . . for . . . she reread it, speaking the words aloud.

_Is there any way she can ever love _me, _too? Or am I just chasing a hopeless dream?_

_By all means, it's impossible. Logically, I mean. I am nothing. _

_I'm a prince, of course. I have a castle. I have more valuables than there are names for. Every type of luxury that exists. _

_I have nothing. Nothing worth taking._

_Except for my heart. And what is that worth? _

Daphnes opened the door. She didn't notice. Quietly, she repeated his words.

_I ask again: Can she ever possibly love me? Is there any way? If there is, please, tell me: what do I do? I'll do it. Just tell me what I have to change to make her fall in love with me. What do I do? _

Zelda slammed the book shut, bowing her head. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned around, looking into Daphnes' gray eyes. She felt her legs buckle, and held his forearms to help her balance.

She leaned into him, burying her face in his chest, clutching his shoulders. She couldn't breathe very well, and softly said, "Nothing."

"What?" he asked, pulling her back. "What did you say?"

"There's nothing you have to do," she answered, her voice stronger, but still wavering. "Nothing you can do. And if you do anything, if you change at all, I swear I'll kill you. You're prefect the way you are."

He stared at her, startled. Suddenly he fumbled for something, wandering to the bed, reaching into his pillowcase and pulling it out with shaking fingers.

"What is that?" Zelda asked unsteadily.

Daphnes understood in an instant. Of course he did. "Sit down," he instructed, and she sat, relieved to rest. He handed her a blue box. "Open it."

"This isn't what I think it is, is it?"

"Open it," he repeated.

She did. And it was exactly what she'd thought it was. "You know, you're supposed to open this," she said, staring at the diamond ring. It had sapphires on either side. She marveled at what it must have cost.

"What do you say?"

Zelda couldn't speak. She couldn't think. Her mind was screaming, "Yes, yes!" But she wasn't sure.

"I . . . I don't know."

That wasn't what she'd wanted to say. And it wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. Frustrated, he stood, and paced in front of her.

"You _never_ know, do you?" he demanded.

"What?" Zelda was too confused, and too hurt, to think clearly.

"I think I've told you I loved at least three times, maybe more, and every time you want to say yes, don't you? But something's holding you back." He sat down in front of her. "What's holding you back? Tell me, and maybe you can let it go."

"I . . . I . . ."

Daphnes stared at her in disgust. "You don't know, right? I think _I _know. I'm done. I love you, I want to marry you, I want to have children and all that. But if you don't, then I want to know that. I want to get over it. _That _I could deal with. What I can't deal with is not knowing. Waiting for you to decide whether I'm happy or not. I can't do that." He took her hand. "I'll go crazy, waiting for you. So figure it out: what do you want?"

She sat there, realizing this was her last chance. "I . . . want to . . . be happy."

"Happy. Great. _So _glad to hear you're making this nice and easy."

Sarcasm. Daphnes was never sarcastic. "You're not making this easy on me, either."

"Zelda, I've made this as easy as I can. I've told you, over and over again, that I love you. What else do I do? You said to do nothing. But nothing isn't good enough. What do you want from me?"

She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. How had this gotten so out of control. "I want to marry you, I think. But I'm all confused. Should I be confused if I want to marry you?"

Daphnes wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "I was happy when we were together today. Having them think we were a couple . . . I was thrilled. The only thing confusing me is that you're confused."

Zelda thought about that. "I love you," she began. "But I loved someone else, a long, long time ago. How do I . . . choose?"

"Why did you leave?"

"He scared me." Zelda could never keep from being honest around him.

"Why do you want to leave right now?"

"I don't want anyone to get hurt. I want to sort things out, but I don't have time to think."

"How much time do you need?"

That was hard. Impossible, even. "I'll let you know when I decide."

Daphnes stood, and ushered her toward the door. "I'm not going to wait forever," he insisted blearily. But the words weren't harsh; his expression was defeated, and his eyes held a broken look. She was already lost to him.

"I know."

"See ya, Zelda." He took the Sapphire off her neck. "I'm gonna need this. I'm still going after the Triforce." _Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll die, _he thought caustically. He quickly squashed the wave of self-pity. He'd have plenty of time to fall apart later.

He closed the door in her face, and fell back onto the bed.

It was so close to being perfect.

But then again, that was his life, wasn't it? One inch away from bliss--then back into the bottom. He'd better get used to it.

Zelda looked out a nearby window. She needed to think. She needed someone to talk to.

It was a short walk to The Sheikan Caverns. By the time she got there, her dress was ripped, and her makeup was running.

Tia was at the entrance, talking with someone. The guards stopped her as she tried to enter.

"Please," she begged. "I need to talk with someone."

"Sorry," the guard said. "No one's allowed unless you're Sheikah. And you're not." He took one look at her clothes. "Sorry."

Zelda turned and dejectedly walked away.

She was dazed, and walked through Hyrule Field for awhile, wandering aimlessly.

A familiar voice called out from the shadows, making her jump.

"Hey, Zel."

* * *

So depressing, isn't it? 

Zelda's not very polite, is she? And he was so . .. it was so corny it was sweet. Aww. . .

Well, then: I'll see you around.

* * *


	23. The Wounds are Healed

"Impa."

There was no surprise in Zelda's voice. No uncertainty. Just knee-weakening, mind-numbing relief. She turned around slowly, peering into the shadows. "I've been looking for you."

"Of course." The figure stepped forward and was bathed in moonlight. It cast shimmering white highlights across her silver hair and shaded her scarlet eyes with darkness. A wry grin pulled at her lips, which were purple against her pale face. "What did you do this time?"

"I . . . I . . ." All the awfulness of that night, from Daphnes' rejection to her own confusion to the horrors of wearing a dress, hit her in an instant. She threw her arms around Impa's shoulders in a brutal embrace that sent her staggering. Impa awkwardly patted Zelda's back. The Sheikah weren't big on hugs.

"Whoa." She pulled back and looked Zelda over, taking in her torn, muddy dress, her makeup (which was running down her cheeks), and the tears that left salty streaks on her face. "What _happened?"_

Zelda shook her head. "Everything!" she cried dramatically, sinking to the ground.

Impa narrowed her eyes, concerned and more than slightly freaked-out. This weeping girl at her feet was a far cry from the brash, rude, kick-ass Zelda she knew.

It was definitely frightening.

Gently (which was not one of Impa's talents), she coaxed Zelda into talking, and soon she got the whole story figured out. She sat back on her feet and exhaled deeply.

Zelda had pretty much calmed down. She looked up at Impa hopefully. "What the hell is wrong with me?" she asked.

"A lot of things." It was more of a test than anything else. To make sure this mopey attitude was temporary.

"Gee, thanks, Impa. I love you too," she shot back sarcastically. Impa smiled. Zelda was returning to normal. She swung an arm around Zelda's shoulders.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, this is all fixable." _For the most part. _"And, no matter how bad it gets, I'll be here--"

"Thanks," Zelda said sincerely. Impa held up a hand.

"--To cheer you up, but even more, to laugh at you." Sheik had always said that when she was feeling sad, and she thought it might help Zelda. Of course, Impa always kicked him in the shin, but deep down--make that very deep down--she felt better. Deep, deep down. Seriously, _deep_. Like, millions of miles down there. Maybe this was mistake . . .

Wham! Zelda kicked her in the shin. Impa grinned, swallowing back a little sob. It wasn't the time to break down. Keeping her arm around Zelda, she steered her through Hyrule Field.

When she saw the glistening water of Lake Hylia, Zelda turned to face Impa. "What are we doing here?"

Impa shrugged, and led her to a tree on an island in the center of the lake. She leaped at it and was at the top in thirty seconds. She looked down at Zelda smugly, who was staring wide-eyed at her. She shook her head slowly.

"No. Way."

A minute later Zelda scrambled up to sit next to her. "This dress was not meant to climb trees," she complained.

Her friend just looked at her earnestly. "So . . ."

Zelda didn't need to ask what she was talking about. With a sigh, she leaned back and looked up at the moon. "I really don't know."

" I _know _I've heard _that _before."

"No!" She turned to stare at Impa pleadingly. "I'm just . . . so confused. It's . . . ugh!" She waved her hands in the air helplessly. "What about Demi?" she whispered weakly.

"What about him? He's at home. _Waaaayy_ at home. Daphnes is right here. Right. Here."

"But . . . I thought I loved him."

"You did. _Then_. Didn't you come here to get _away_ from all that?"

"Yeah, but--"

"No buts. Did you like spending time around Demi?"

"I guess. I spent most of it being nervous."

"Why?"

"He's so confident. Like everything he does and says is right. And . . . Nayru, you should have seen him!" She whistled softly for effect. "So I was scared to death that I'll say something stupid."

"Sounds like fun."

"It kinda was. Scary. But good-scary. Exciting-scary. He was always doing the stupidest things." She shook her head and laughed with weary affection.

"What about the Dark Whatever?"

Her expression darkened. "I don't know. I don't think I'll ever know. I just know that it was--is--in there. And it's evil." She rolled her eyes at herself. "Yeah, that didn't sound too crazy."

Impa smiled wryly. "Hey. I'm an expert on crazy."

Zelda nodded, watching the moon disappear behind a cloud.

"So?"

"So . . ." she took a huge breath, blowing it out slowly, and feeling Impa's eyes on her the whole time. "I left. And I'm confused. Which I shouldn't be."

"Why not?" Impa asked, frowning.

"Because it's so obvious. Daphnes is here. He's just smart, and funny, and cute . . . and it makes sense. But . . ." Zelda moaned and fell back, covering her face with her hands.

"I think this is a hell of a lot easier than you're making it. Do you have fun with Daphnes?"

"Yeah. He's--"

"Just shut up and think. Are you happy with him?"

She nodded.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing. Well--" She grinned. "He's a little paranoid. And overthinks things a little too much. And I'd have to be _noble." _Wrinkling her nose to show her displeasure, Zelda raised her eyebrows at her friend.

"Is all that so unbearable?"

"I dunno. Some of it'll suck, but . . . no. It isn't."

Impa shrugged, pleased that she was right. And feeling a little tired of the cross-examination-therapy-thing. But it took her mind off other things.

"And Demi? Did you have fun with him?"

"It was a . . . kind of fun."

"Were you happy?"

"It was a kind of happiness."

"What's wrong with him?"

Zelda made a derisive noise. "Besides the obvious? He was arrogant, proud, always convinced he was right."

"And this is so terrible?"

There was a long silence. The darkness was fading, the sky lightening slightly. "Yes. There's no way that could ever work. I'd kill him."

". . .Then I think you're done."

No answer. Impa closed her eyes, letting Zelda think. She was just drifting off to sleep when Zelda said, "Yeah. I think I am."

"And?"

Zelda buried her face in her knees. Each word seemed to take a huge amount of energy. "I . . . love . . . Daphnes."

She resisted the urge to add, _I think. _

She couldn't go back again.

Impa pumped her fist into the air gleefully. "I am _so right! _Go me, I am the all-powerful Love Doctor, and in my awesomeness, I will--Hey, why aren't you happy?"

Zelda had slumped backward, watching the sun go up, depression written all over her face. She raised herself up on one elbow. "Um, _hello_? Did you miss the part when I said Daphnes has given up on me? And doesn't care anymore? And gone off to look for the Triforce? He's probably left by now."

Impa sighed in exasperation. "Um, _hello_?" she mocked. "He might have given up on you, but what kind of wimp just gives up right back? I'll bet that he hasn't permanently given up, as in is suddenly engaged to whatever girl happens to wander by. There is no way he stopped caring in a night. 'Cause that's stupid. Especially when you said you'd go talk to him later."

"Yeah, and he said he won't wait forever."

"Duh! Has it been forever yet? No! And if he's gone off for the Triforce, then go find him! How far can he have gotten?"

"In a night? Pissed off and upset? Pretty far."

Impa stood, glaring down at Zelda. Maybe it was Sheik's death (which she wasn't even close to being okay with), maybe it was Zelda's utter hopelessness, but she was extremely ticked off. "I have had _enough _of your shit! You're sitting here, acting like everything's impossible, when it's _so _not! If he can find the Triforce, so can you, if you actually _try_! So get your head outta your ass and get moving, because I am done, done, _done _with trying to help you!"

Zelda sat there, staring up at Impa with wide eyes. "Okay," she replied. "But--" she winced as Impa looked like she was going to explode, "I need to know how many Spiritual Stones there are."

"Three, supposedly. There's one with the Zoras, one with the Gorons, and one with the Kokiri. Of course, no one actually believes there are any Kokiri."

Okay. The last one had to be with the Gorons. Zelda wasn't really sure what Gorons were. She'd seen pictures in the Hylian/Fotmea/Ryia textbooks. She knew that they weren't the brightest, but had a fiery spirit and a temper to match. And that they could pick up a small rock and throw it over Hyrule Castle (a small mountain in itself), or crush it into powder, or take a large boulder and carry it in one hand. They could take a human skull and play catch with it. They could take a forearm and use it as a toothpick.

If they actually did these things, Zelda had no clue. But they could. So she was very concerned on not annoying them.

_Yeah, don't annoy them, _a pessimistic voice in her head muttered. _Just steal their precious rock and chase after a prince into the woods. That'll work. _

She ignored the voice and began climbing down the tree.

_Hopefully the Gorons are nicer than you think, _the voice continued. _Otherwise you're so dead, you should just try falling off the top of Hyrule Castle. The Goddesses are probably taking bets on how long you'll survive. You'll--_

"Oh, shut up," she hissed, placing on hand on her ear.

"What?" Impa asked.

"Nothing!"

She looked down at Zelda strangely. "Ooookay."

Zelda picked up the tattered ends of her dress and stepped onto the creaking bridge, setting off toward Goron City. She tried to remember the maps of Hyrule they'd had to memorize. Something about Kakariko . . . was it next to it? Or . . .

She shook her head. She'd find her way. She waved good-bye to Impa and leapt down from the tree.

As she reached the steps leading up to Kakariko Village, the shrieking cry of a cuckoo signaled the beginning of the day.

* * *

Daphnes picked up a bag and threw random clothes into it. He'd already packed some food, and had tried to get some sleep. In other words, he dropped some breath mints in the bag and had laid on his bed, tossing and turning and thinking about Zelda. His blankets were a twisted mess, and he'd fallen off more than once. 

There was a knock on his door. "Come in," Daphnes called. A maid named Cookie meekly poked her head inside, slowly easing herself through the half-open door. She took in the messy room with narrowed eyes. "How did you sleep, Your Highness?" she asked, her croaky voice barely above a whisper. She bowed so low her nose brushed against the carpet.

"I got about, oh, three minutes of sleep," he replied wryly. The maid laughed throatily, scurrying forward to fix the bed. Every few seconds she'd dare to shoot an approving look at him, trying to be sneaky. She was about as subtle as a train wreck. He laughed to himself humorlessly. He was slightly chubby (no point denying it), and the only person he'd ever cared about basically hated his guts. But at least some fifty-year-old servant admired him.

He picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "Well, see ya."

Cookie stopped him at the door. "Where are you going?"

"Uh . . . out."

She put a hand on her hip. "Us maids hear things, you know. And we hear that yer goin' out to get that old Triforce."

"So what if I am?" he shot back petulantly. Cookie raised her bushy eyebrows at him. He groaned. "Yeah, I'm going."

"Well, we thinks it's not very smart, Your Highness." She bowed again. "The younger ones, they says that they will come with you, sir. They says if you can do it, they can just as much."

He shrugged. "They can do whatever they want."

"No they can't. They will get in trouble, they will. Cookie says, 'Don't go, the Prince can do whatever he wants,' and they says 'No, we want to do it, too.' And Cookie wants you to stop and think, sir. Because if you don't, then others will believe that they don't have to think either. And then we will have all sorts of people, doing all sorts of bad things. And Cookie wants no king who will do such thoughtless things, no she doesn't."

Daphnes rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm trying to save Hyrule, Cookie. I don't have to explain my actions, nor my reasonings."

Cookie nodded. "Cookie will follow her prince and king, yes she will. But Cookie thinks that Daphnes needs to think about his reasonings. Daphnes needs to meet himself a nice lady, yes he does. He has a nice lady, and he will be happy. He will say, 'Yes, I will stay, I want to be with my lady.' And you will be happy." She laughed. "Cookie thinks with her head, yes she does. But you think with your heart. And that's dangerous. Daphnes needs to decide how he will think. Daphnes talks with big words and fancy languages, but he is scared." She stuck her wrinkled face in his. "Daphnes needs to decide what is wiser. The King thinks with his head. The prince doesn't know how to think."

She looked at him for a moment, then shuffled out of the room. Daphnes sat on the bed, his head swimming. From both her sudden changes to third person, and from her cryptic words.

He thought with his heart. But was that bad? He knew nobles who thought with worse things. He needed to be careful. That was all Cookie was saying. He grinned at nothing. She may have been crazy, but she was very insightful. Very wise.

He picked up his bags and headed for the door.

And smacked into his mother. She glared up at him--he was pretty tall--wearing a nightgown and animal hide slippers.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To find the Triforce."

"No."

"We talked about this."

"I didn't think you were serious."

"Sucks for you." He pushed past her and headed toward the front entrance.

Two guards stepped up to him, standing on either side. They each took him by the forearm.

"Sorry, Your Highness," one of them said with an apologetic shrug. "Queen's orders."

"I thought you didn't think i was serious!"

"No harm in being careful," she replied coolly.

Daphnes barked out a laugh, facing his indignant mother. "You really think you're going to keep me here?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do. And I want you to give up this Triforce thing. I want you to concentrate on tonight's ball."

He didn't even bother telling her how wrong she was. And he didn't complain about the second ball in a row. He didn't say anything, not as the guards threw him into his room, not as they locked the door. Not as he pulled a black cloak over his head.

His mother didn't speak, either, as she stood outside the door, waiting for the day to begin.

No one spoke.

But a black-covered figure slowly climbed down from the first-floor bedroom and disappeared into the early morning.

And the shrieking cry of a cuckoo signaled the beginning of the day.

* * *

"Son! Get over here!" 

A group of men waved their arms wildly. They were standing on the deck of a fishing boat. It hugged the shoreline. Demi wondered why for a second, but then turned and began rowing toward them. He needed directions anyway.

"Where do you think you're headed?" one of the men asked.

"To Hyrule," he responded politely. "How long would that take?"

The fishermen looked at each other uneasily. One boy stepped forward, a shock of blond hair falling over his eyes. "If you go that way--" he pointed out at the open water-- "it'll take a day and a half. If you go that way--" he pointed to the shoreline, and Demi saw that it snaked around, slowly headed in the same direction-- "it'll take at least three days, maybe a week."

Demi nodded. That cleared some things up, at least. He held up a hand in thanks and began to walk away.

"But I wouldn't go out there, if I were you!" the boy added.

Dimitri stopped, then glanced over his shoulder. A malicious anger grew inside him, and he knew the Dark Triforce had awakened. Gritting his teeth against the slow-boiling frustration, he pulled his hand away from his knife, clenching them into fists across his chest.

The boy looked at him strangely. "There are all sorts of pirates out there," he explained. "It's sure not very safe. But they only go out in open water. If you stay by the shore, you'll be safe. They don't dare come too near the towns. Not without a lot of careful planning."

"Well, thanks for the warning." He thought for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the kid's advice. "Um . . . see ya." He started to row out to the center of the gulf.

For a long time the men shouted warnings, things like, "I really think you should come back!" and "What the hell is wrong with you?!" But apparently after a while they got bored, and Dimitri was left alone, with only the lapping water on his boat for company.

And the Dark Triforce, of course. He could feel it silently boiling, a little presence in the back of his mind, angry that its control over Demi was slipping.

He listened to the water, and thought about the warnings of the fishermen. There were pirates? Honest-to-Din, sword-swinging, town-ravaging, beer-slugging pirates? _Pirates?_

That was less than ideal.

But there wasn't any chance he'd run into them. The Goddesses didn't hate him _that _much.

He let his thoughts drift to Zelda, and Hyrule. Would he find her there? What other things could be in Hyrule?

Taking one last look behind him, he caught a glimpse of a large manor house, sitting at the top of a hill. Jade's house.

Shaking his head to clear it of melancholy thoughts, he pushed harder on the rows, watching the boat cut through the water.

THUD.

Demi looked to either side. What was that? There wasn't anything in front of him, or to the side. A shadow fell over his boat, and he turned around. And realized how stupid he was.

A huge ship towered over his little boat. It was a beautiful ship, with intricate carvings and all that.

And it was obvious that the Goddesses _did _hate him that much.

Because the flag waving up near the top of the mast bore the familiar skull-and-crossbones symbol.

And the seven faces peering down at him were covered in dirt, scarred, and much too thin.

And obviously female.

Pirates.

_Female _pirates.

He closed his eyes, muttering a soft oath.

_Din, Nayru, Farore? Just thought I'd let you know: I hate you too.

* * *

_

"What do you mean, you're leaving?"

"I thought it was fairly straightforward," Jade replied, keeping her voice even.

"Well, you can't! I won't let you!" Mela's voice squeaked. In panic, she lunged forward and grabbed Jade's arm. "Don't leave!"

Jade heard the note of desperation in her mother's voice. It made her hesitate. But when Mela took her other arm and tried to drag her back to the house, a jolt of pain brought her back to earth.

"Ow! Mom, stop it!" She wrenched her arms away from Mela and stepped back so that there were several feet between them. "I'm going," she said fiercely. She turned on her heel and walked away.

Once she was seated in her boat, she turned to face her mother.

But Mela had disappeared into the house.

Apparently she didn't care that much.

* * *

Ganondorf froze. His eyes widened. Nabooru watched in confusion as his face drained of color. 

"Uh, Ganondorf?" she asked hesitantly.

He shook his head and looked down at her. "Stay here," he commanded.

"Wait! Why? What's going on?" she called, following him up the dune. "Where are you going?"

"Stay here!"

Nabooru rolled her eyes at him, but plopped down onto the sand. She climbed up to the top of the dune, interested to see what was bothering Ganondorf so much.

Her mouth fell open. "Whoa," she whispered. It wasn't a "this is so cool!" whoa.

The Gerudo Fortress, _her_ Fortress, her _home_, was in under attack.

Ganondorf had his bow and arrow out the second he reached the Fortress. He glanced all around the outside. The entrance had been barricaded by a pillar that had fallen across it.

He warily approached the entrance. How was he going to get in?

A figure jumped in his path. "Aah!" Ganondorf raised his bow, ready to shoot.

The person raised her hands into the air. "Relax, already," she said. Ganondorf put his weapon away, resting his hands on the hilt of each scimitar.

"Who are you?" he asked.

She stepped forward, and he recognized the girl as Krysu. She held out her hand. In it were three glimmering pieces of something bright green. They were pieces of a bottle, with the label still clinging to it. The word _magic _was clearly visible.

"I found this," she whispered, "outside your room. I thought you could use it." She moved closer, still holding out her hand. "You're learning magic?" He could feel her breath on his face.

"Uh, yeah." He pulled back, taking the bottle pieces. "How did you think this would help again?" he asked, trying to find a nice way to tell her it was just some pieces of glass.

"Well, I don't know." She pouted, peering up at him through her eyelashes. "I thought that maybe there was still some magic on it or something. Your Majesty," she added and bowed slightly, as though remembering who she was talking to.

"Ok. Thanks." He turned his back to her, surveying the Fortress. Picking up a piece of stone, he moved it to the side, feeling some satisfaction at how much stronger he'd grown. He was quickly shedding the thin lanky boy he'd been only a little while ago. He didn't know how it was happening, but it was pretty cool.

Krysu followed him, standing a few feet away, scanning the sand around them, respectful but protective.

"Agh!" she cried out as she tripped over something, falling into him. Instinctively he caught her by the elbow. She looked up at him gratefully. "Thank you," she murmured, standing slowly. "There was a hidden stone in the sand." There was something disconcerting about her smile, something sneaky.

Ganondorf wouldn't be able to get in the front entrance. It was too well blocked.

He grinned. He had an idea. A stupid, reckless, insanely brave idea. "I wish Nabooru was here," he said, thinking how much she'd love this.

"Well, then, aren't you lucky?" The voice made him jump. He turned to face her, feeling relieved and a lot happier than he'd been moments before. He nodded, and didn't even mention how she'd disobeyed him. He could get pissed off later.

She looked at him expectantly. "Well?" she asked. "What's your idea?"

Ganondorf looked at Nabooru, then Krysu, then Nabooru again. "It's very reckless," he began, keeping his gaze on Nabooru's golden eyes. They were dancing with an amused light. She raised her eyebrow, and glanced at Krysu.

"I'm in," she said.

"I'm in!" Krysu added, giving Nabooru an evil glare.

Still watching Nabooru, he asked, "Well, then, how do you feel about heights?"

* * *

Zelda approached Goron City slowly, apprehensively. No Gorons seemed to be concerned about her presence. The only interest they showed was polite curiosity. One Goron stopped her as she climbed up the path that led to the Goron's home. 

"I'm Darunia. Who are you?" he asked. Although it could have been a she. Zelda really wasn't sure. But she smiled and turned to the Goron.

"I'm Zelda," she replied. "I'm here to talk to your leader."

Darunia took her hand, slightly crushing her fingers, and began pulling her up the mountain. "I'll take you to him!"

"Oh, that's really okay--" But he was already halfway up the mountain with her in tow. She winced. He was going to rip her arm off. Gently she pulled out of his grip and started following him.

Gorons don't look it, but they can be very fast. Not agile, but when they're moving in a straight line, they can be faster than most horses.

Zelda . . . was not. Darunia patiently walked with her, telling her his life story at a mile a minute. "Gorons eat rocks, did you know that we like rocks, and nothing's better than the taste of the good ol' rocks from Dodongo's Cavern. It hits the spot!" he finished, slapping his round stomach. "Well, here we are."

Goron City was a hole cut out of the mountain. Zelda looked at it skeptically. "That's it?" she asked.

"Yep," Darunia replied. "Come on, I'll take you to Haeriun. He's our leader."

When they entered the city, Zelda gasped.

It was huge, full of winding pathways and little rooms. In the center of the ceiling, on a floating platform held up by many ropes, was the Goron's Ruby.

The Stone she needed.

Darunia noticed what she was looking at and said, "Yeah, that's our rock. It's supposed to be magical, but I just think it looks tasty. Us Gorons, we try to see who can get up to it. I licked it once. It was good, yes it was."

Zelda tore her eyes away. "How old is Haeriun?"

Darunia crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. "Very very old! I think he should be replaced. We need a new, younger Goron to take charge. With new ideas. I have lots of ideas."

Zelda laughed. "You, huh?"

He looked slightly abashed, but shrugged. "Maybe."

He stopped at the entrance to a room. "Here you go," he said with a little wave.

Zelda gingerly stepped into the black tunnel and followed it, heading toward the bright light at the other end. It was a short tunnel. She came out and saw Haeriun sitting on an old chair. He was old. His brown skin was wrinkled, but his eyes were full of wisdom.

She stepped up to him. "Uh, sir, I was wondering if--"

"I know what you want. And you can't have it. Our Stone is too precious."

She stared at him, her mouth hanging open. "How--"

"The leader has to have the sense. Very few are blessed with it. They have more intelligence. Goodbye. We cannot help you."

"But--"

"No. No no no. Leave." He gave her a look that clearly said their conversation was over.

Dejectedly, Zelda turned and left.

She almost ran into Darunia, who was waiting for her. His face broke into a huge smile.

"I know what you want," he said. "You want the Ruby. Well, I don't know what Haeriun said, but I know that you want it for a good reason. Or at least, that it will have a good effect on Hyrule. So I'll help you get it."

"You have the--"

"Yep. Come on. Just stay back."

He picked her up around the waist and leapt at a giant Goron statue that was slowly revolving around the floor. Hand, foot, hand, foot, and he was halfway up the statue.

Many Gorons watched this spectacle. One Goron (Zelda assumed it was a girl because of her smaller stature and higher voice) called out, "What you doing, Darunia?" Another group clapped their hands and laughed. "Climb! Get good stone!" and Zelda realized she was right about Darunia having that special sense. He spoke more fluently, and seemed to be more aware of the things around him. The other Gorons didn't seem to really know what they were saying sometimes. But there were a group of twenty or so, standing on the ground, and one shouted, "Darunia! Get down here right now! What do you think you are doing!" Their words were more connected than the others'.

Darunia ignored them all, and when he reached the top of the statue, he leapt onto the platform and gestured to the stone. Zelda picked it up, running her hands over the smooth red surface. She looked up at Darunia and nodded. "I have to go," she said, then held up the stone. "I'll bring this back as soon as I can."

"No problem. Hold onto it as long as you need." He carefully picked her up again and deposited her at the mouth of Goron City. "I hope you realize that you just ruined my chances for being the next Goron leader."

"Oh, no, I'm so sorry, I--" She trailed off when Darunia laughed at her horrified expression.

"No, no! That was the most fun I've had in a while," he assured Zelda with a reckless grin. "I like you," he said, patting her on the back. Her knees buckled, and she clutched at a nearby rock to keep from collapsing. Darunia gently helped her to her feet. "Good-bye," he said, waving happily.

Zelda nodded, still leaning against the rock. "Bye," she breathed, feeling slightly winded and more than slightly embarrassed.

As the Goron left, she heard him mutter, "Hylians. So fragile. What were the Goddesses thinking?"

Taking a deep breath, Zelda forced herself to her feet, bending down to pick up the Stone. She didn't know what she'd expected when she held it, but she didn't expect to feel . . . nothing. She headed back down the mountain, holding it out in front of her and dodging some seriously huge spiders. One spider (the size of a toddler) crouched down, fixing its hungry eyes on her, and before Zelda could blink, let alone get ready to fight, it sprung into the air, sailing over her head.

She let out a relieved breath, then continued down the mountain, quickening her pace.

Out of Kakariko, and Zelda was still waiting for something to happen. With a sigh of defeat, she pocketed the ruby and looked out to the forest. It would take at least a day on foot. And Daphnes probably already had a head start. She sank onto one of the stone steps in front of Kakariko Village and put her head in her hands.

"You're not giving up again, are you?" The voice came from right next to her ear.

"Waah!" Zelda leapt into the air, whirling around to face the voice. Impa shook her head and sighed. She raised her eyebrows.

"Well, are you?"

"I was planning on it," Zelda replied, sitting back down, then climbing to her feet again and pacing around Impa; nervous adrenaline made her restless. "I can't get all the way to the forest in time."

Impa glanced up at the sky, as if asking the Goddesses about Zelda's insanity. "Why not?"

Zelda placed one hand on each of Impa's cheeks, then turned her to face the forest. "See? Too far." She made Impa shake her head. "Toooo faaarrr."

Impa pulled away from Zelda, rubbing her cheek. "So we don't walk."

"We fly, is that it?"

Ignoring her completely, Impa led Zelda to a little beaten-up old ranch. The sign said "Lon Lon Ranch."

Zelda shook her head. "No." She was _not _going to steal another horse from these poor people. (Especially when she wasn't sure what had happened to the first one).

"Sure. The 'Lons' are pretty cool." Impa took Zelda's hand encouragingly, dragging her to a nearby house. Inside, a heavy man was sitting next to a bed, holding hands with a pale young woman. Her red hair was spread all over the pillow, and she was breathing heavily. He barely glanced up when they entered.

"Oh. Hello Impa," he said hoarsely. "And . . ."

"Zelda," she supplied.

The pale woman stirred, and tried to sit up. Zelda noticed her waist was covered in a blood-drenched cloth. "Zelda? Have I heard that name . . ." A fit of coughing made her lean back. When her eyes met Zelda's, she gasped, making her cough even more.

Zelda waved shyly. "So I take it that means you remember me."

"Talon," Mary whispered. "She . . . she . . ."

Talon looked up at them with an apologetic smile. "You must remind her of someone," he said. "I think you should leave."

Impa stepped in front of Zelda quickly. "We were actually wondering if we could borrow two horses."

"Two?" Zelda said.

"Yeah. I got you all this way; I wanna see how it all turns out."

"Nuh-uh. No way." Zelda wasn't really thrilled with having an audience witness her fall flat on her face.

Impa sighed. "Fine. _One _horse."

Talon nodded, still trying to comfort his wife. "Sure, go ahead." He turned back to Mary.

Zelda sat up on a gray-and-black horse. She was relieved to see that the other horse she'd "borrowed" was safely returned.

Impa sighed wistfully. "Zel, can't I--"

"No."

"Not even to--"

"No." There was a bite in her voice that surprised her.

It surprised Impa, too. "Ok," she said with a shrug. "Let me know when you get back."

Zelda picked up the reigns, trying to remember what she did last time. "How do you make it . . . go?"

Impa rolled her eyes. "You're going to die out there." She got the horse to walk. "You just sorta play with the reigns until it moves faster. And kick it. But not hard."

Zelda nudged it with her feet, and it took off, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Impa called mockingly. Zelda barely heard her.

_Just let me get there in time.

* * *

_

The sun was going down, and Daphnes had just reached the entrance of the forest. The trees stood before him, tall and intimidating. He remembered, for the five-hundredth time, that most people who went in never returned. And unless they'd formed some sort of forest-living cult, they were dead. None of this was comforting as he stared at the break in the trees, marked by a hollowed-out log-tunnel.

Taking a deep breath, he held the emerald in his hand and stepped into the log.

Nothing. He inspected himself. No turning into a plant, or exploding, or spontaneous combustion Nothing! He laughed with giddy relief, and practically ran through the tunnel, hearing a soft melody echo through the forest.

* * *

Zelda heard the now-familiar laugh, and it made her hesitate. She hopped off the horse and stood at the entrance of the forest, feeling uneasy. 

So he was in there. That was obvious. And she was relieved.

Sort of.

Okay, she was scared to death. But it wasn't going to stop her. She entered the tunnel, and heard footsteps pounding in front of her.

She touched the ruby in her pocket for luck, then took off after him.

* * *

Daphnes peered through the gloom. The filtered sunlight that made it through the trees was green from the leaves, and it was dark. He thought he heard something behind him, but ignored it. He might have been hearing things; the music kept changing, making some very un-Hylian-music type sounds. 

All right, now that he was out of the tunnel and across the bridge, he would . . . do something. But what? He looked down at the Spiritual Stones, looking for some sort of clue.

Nothing. Not even a little poof of magic. "Stupid rocks," he muttered, and considered throwing them at the bushes, but decided the Zoras might be less than happy if he lost their precious rock.

_Snap._

Daphnes stiffened. He'd definitely heard something. He fought the urge to turn around, gently fingering a small sword. He'd gotten it from some long-dead relative guy, and was relieved he'd remembered to bring it.

Footsteps. Slow, cautious.

He tensed, wondering what was going to happen.

* * *

Saria froze. Did he hear _her? _As soon as she'd thought it, she dismissed the idea. There was no way. She was too good to have been found. Silently she edged toward the entrance of the tunnel, straining her ears for the slightest sound. 

There! A twig snapping! Saria grinned triumphantly. Person-stepping-on-sticks would have to be a lot sneakier to avoid her. Although they seemed to be using the music as a cover, moving when the beats were loudest.

She settled back and waited. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

Zelda faltered. She didn't move. She didn't breathe. 

Silhouetted against the pale green light, Daphnes' profile had stiffened. She watched him, confused. Why wasn't he moving? She decided to take it as a gift from the Goddesses and took another careful step.

Snap! Zelda winced. It sounded like bomb going off to her slightly-panicked, slightly-sleep-deprived mind.

Daphnes slowly pulled out his sword. Crap. Hopefully he didn't know how to use that thing.

It was now or never. She took a deep, steadying breath, and lunged forward, crashing into him and sending them both toppling to the ground. Zelda felt her head hit the side of a tree. Oh, great. She was banging into things again.

* * *

Daphnes fell backward, landed on his butt, and skidded several feet before tumbling over the side of a hill, doing some strange backflip-of-death thing and ended up lying on his back, a rib most likely broken and his dignity severely bruised. 

Soft hair brushed at his face, and a familiar voice asked, "Are you all right?"

_No way._ Shaking his head to clear it, he whispered, "Yeah. I think so."

Something cool was pressed against his cheek, and he opened his eyes and started to speak, just as the person did.

"I'm okay, really--"

"Did I hurt--"

His breath caught in his throat, and she trailed off. Zelda blinked, her mouth hanging open slightly. She took her hand off his face, and started to get up. "I--" she began, but was cut off as she tripped and fell back against him. She was sprawled out on top of him, their legs entangled. She held herself up with shaking arms. Her expression was hopeful, relieved.

Daphnes knew he should push her away, pick himself up,_ something. _But he was waiting for her to . . .

_To what? _The rational part of his brain asked derisively. The thought sent his heart into overdrive, but he gently took her forearms and lifted her up, rescuing his legs. He drew them up to his chest protectively and just watched her.

Once he'd let go, a light went out in her eyes. She looked down at the grass, mirroring his position. After a few tense seconds, Daphnes asked, "Uh . . . what are you doing here?"

Zelda's entire body stiffened, and she peered up at him through her eyelashes. She shook her head and shrugged. "Um, I . . . I . . ."

Farore! Why couldn't she just _say it? _She gestured helplessly, hoping Daphnes would get the picture. He stared at her impassively, waiting for her to finish. No help there. "I think . . . I might . . . want to marry you?"

His expression went from stunned, to psyched, to wary, to painfully blank. Why wasn't he more happy? "I want to marry you," she repeated, eliminating all traces of uncertainty from her voice.

He cocked his head to the side, not giving her an inch. "You sure?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Zelda bit her tongue and blushed, but she'd already said it. Sarcasm was _really _not what they needed right now. Feeling the back of her neck grow hot, she added, "Yes. I am. Sure. Yes."

_Ooh, _she thought, wincing. _That was articulate._ Daphnes smirked, then let his half-smile relax into a grin. Her heart warmed. How could she have been unsure for an instant? The second she thought it, his smile disappeared, replaced by an intense look that made it near impossible for her to look away.

The silence stretched for a long time, and Zelda looked around, avoiding his gaze. She could feel it burning holes in her face. Finally she looked up at him. "Well?" she asked, cringing inwardly at the desperation in her voice. "What do you say?"

* * *

"Daphnes? What are you thinking?" The fear in Zelda's voice tore at his heart, and he knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. 

"I'm thinking . . ." he began, then stood without a word, feeling her eyes following his every move. He took a step backward and away from her, running a hand through his hair. He blew out his breath, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She had climbed to her feet and had her arms clasped into in front of her. The change from the moody brat he'd met only days before was amazing.

He had an evil thought. Keeping his face away from hers, he smiled an evil smile. He was the picture of evilness.

"You're thinking . . . ?" she prompted breathlessly.

"I don't know," Daphnes replied, turning back to her and looking somber, trying not to laugh. Her face fell, and she trained her eyes on a mushroom at her feet.

With a giddy laugh, he wrapped an arm around Zelda's waist, spinning her in a circle before letting her down. She gaped at him in disbelief, then punched him in the stomach. "You . . . you suck!" she spluttered.

"Not very fun, is it?" he taunted. He reached into his pocket, still keeping an arm around her slim shoulders, and pulled out a familiar ring.

She stared at him with wide eyes. "How did you . . ."

"I hoped," he replied with a shrug.

Zelda picked it up and placed it on her finger, admiring it in the dim light. Her smile was completely uncontrollable, and a strand of hair fell in her face. Daphnes carefully tucked it behind her ear, feeling certain this was some sort of dream.

* * *

Zelda felt a wave of shivers shoot up her spine as his fingers touched her face. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and just enjoyed feeling so happy. She was engaged, and not at all confused, and he was so close . . . 

She threw her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and almost knocked him down again. He staggered back a few steps, looking confused. Before he could speak, she kissed him.

Daphnes rested his forehead on hers. "What was that for?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

She smiled, feeling all the frustration melt out of her, and remembering all the angst she'd suffered over Demi and Daphnes. "Guys suck," she whispered, finding it hard to breathe.

He cocked his head to the side. "Gee, thanks, Zelda."

"You suck less than most guys." She traced his jawbone with her finger, making his cheeks redden. She gently stood back away from him.

"Should I be grateful or something?" He put one hand on each of her hips, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, it got me to marry you, didn't it?"

He nodded, pulling her closer to him. She was considering kissing him again when he murmured, "I missed you."

Zelda laughed. "I was gone for, like, a day!" She shoved him. "Dork."

"Moment-breaker," he shot back.

She was just about to reply, but he ran a hand through her hair, making her lose the ability to talk. She closed her eyes, marveling at her extreme loserness.

A green-haired head poked up between the small gap between Zelda and Daphnes' faces. "Hello!" the strange girl exclaimed and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Zelda screamed, pulling away from Daphnes and flinging her arm wildly. It connected squarely with the girl's nose.

"Ow!" she complained. "That was my face." The ever-present music throbbed with her anger.

Zelda just sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" she demanded.

The girl looked at her for a long time, then said, "Well, that was rude." She stuck her hip out in adolescent defiance.

"Who are you, and--" Zelda repeated impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the girl said, just as impatiently. She gave them a sly look, and twirled her green hair around one finger. "I'm _so _sorry to have interrupted your precious kissy-kissy, I-love-you barf-fest, but you're sorta barging into my forest, and you aren't dead, and I wanna know why." She gave Zelda a smirk, then stuck out her hand. "I'm Saria, by the way," she added. "Nice to meet you."

Saria gave Zelda a fake smile. The older girl just glared. Goddess, was she polite or what? Saria decided she didn't like Zelda that much. Although she was pretty funny . . . for a grown-up.

Zelda looked out at the ground. "I'm Zelda," she replied moodily.

"I know. You said it before."

An angry red colored Zelda's cheeks, and she opened her mouth, but a look from the blond guy made her fall silent. He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Saria, then shook her hand. "Daphnes," he said, bending down so that they were eye level. "And I'm afraid we don't know much more than you do."

She almost laughed at the silly name, but when she saw the thin gold band that circled his hairline, and his fancy clothes, her mouth dropped open.

"You're _royalty_!" she blurted out.

"Yeah." He self-consciously touched the band. Although it was mandatory for anyone besides the king to wear a sort of mini-crown, he was never comfortable with it; tiaras are not masculine.

Saria took his hand, then Zelda's, looking at them with a new respect. "I think I know who you need to talk to. He's very smart, and he'll understand what's going on." She tilted her head, proud to be leading a _royal couple _on an adventure. "But first, tell me what you know."

Daphnes looked a bit embarrassed, but held his head high as he said, "We're looking for the Triforce."

"Awesome!" she exclaimed. She dropped their hands and pulled out a small tan ocarina, and began to play softly, matching the music. Turning toward the trees, a swell of excitement gave her a bounce in her step. She glanced over her shoulder. Daphnes and Zelda had their heads together and were whispering intently. Saria tried to read their expressions, but lost interest quickly and returned to playing.

She'd been hoping for something interesting to happen, but . . .

. . . This was more than she could've expected.

Or hoped for.


	24. Undiscovered Talent

"Ooh, I don't like this," Krysu whispered, her arms stretched to the side, each holding one scimitar.

The three Gerudo were perched on the roof of one of the abandoned guard posts. The guards had all been called in to fight. Ganondorf was kneeling with his chin in his palm, his scimitars on his back and holding the side of the roof with his other hand. Nabooru was mirroring his position on the other side of the building, and Krysu was at the very top of the pyramid-shaped roof.

"Oh, come on, Krysu," Nabooru said. "This is fun."

"Fun?" she scoffed. "Does training cover this? No, it doesn't!"

"Hey, I have experience in this, remember?"

Krysu nodded. "Unfortunately. I was there too."

Nabooru just shook her head. "At least I got 200 rupees. And it's a good thing to know how to do. If someone came up to me and said, 'I bet you don't have the guts to jump off the top of the Fortress cafeteria tied to your friend,' I can be all like, 'I've already done that! So there! What now?!' to them."

Krysu barked out a short laugh, then remembered they were mad at each other, and gave her a scathing look. "You're crazy. Stark raving nuts."

Nabooru laughed crazily, then turned to Ganondorf. "So . . . what now?" she asked.

He scanned the Fortress below. This wasn't a small attack, but it wasn't a full-out battle; there were maybe fifty Hylians fighting in the main area, not counting the ten or so dead on the ground.

Fifty Hylians . . . against a whole Fortress of Gerudo. Maybe a few hundred in all.

It was going to be slaughter.

That thought should have made him sick. It should have made him pity the poor Hylians. But things are rarely the way they should be. Things are the way they are. And Ganondorf had learned to accept that.

The truth was, he felt pleased. A savage anger at the Hylians, who just stupidly attacked them for no reason and no hope of winning. And a satisfaction that they were learning to leave the Gerudo alone.

It scared him.

"Ga-non-dorf!" Nabooru singsonged. "What do we dooo?"

He shrugged, glancing at her. "What do you think?"

She looked surprised for a moment, but bit her lip and thought. "Well, they're outnumbered," she began slowly. "Of course, they don't seem to be going down, do they? Not even against the Gerudo." Another long pause, then, "The others might have a plan, and they're letting the Hylians win. If that's true, then we could mess everything up by just being there. Or worse, the Hylians have a plan, or some sort of security. This could be a decoy or something." She looked up at him. "I think the smartest thing to do would be to send two of us down there to stealthily figure everything out, then do . . . whatever. And have one of us go look around the rest of the Fortress, see what's going on there." She shrugged helplessly. "That's all I have. We're going on no information."

Ganondorf nodded, admiring her quick thinking for a moment. Then he returned his thoughts to the battle. "Okay," he said. "Let's do that. Krysu, Nabooru, you'll be all right down there?"

Nabooru rolled her eyes. "We'll be fine."

Krysu nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but will _you_ be all right?" she asked Ganondorf.

"Yeah. Now, remember: this is not a battle. You're just going to see that you can find out. Right?" Nabooru didn't miss the warning glance he'd given her. She winked cockily and positioned herself near the edge of the roof, taking Ganondorf's place in the shadows.

He stood, and strode past, lightly brushing his fingertips on her back. With a little wave, he was gone.

Krysu kneeled down next to her. "So we just throw ourselves off the roof?"

"Yep." She shrugged. "Prepare yourself," she said dramatically. "This is going to be very stupid."

"Aaahh!" Krysu whisper-screamed with exaggerated fear, then returned to her poker-face expression. "I'm ready," she said with mock seriousness.

Nabooru launched herself off the roof, falling almost straight down into darkness. "Kamikaze!" she said in the same whisper-scream. She hit the ground and rolled back, then sprang to her feet in one fluid motion.

Krysu landed with catlike grace, crouching next to her. "Now what?"

"We wait." As she spoke, Nabooru crept forward, slinking around buildings, weaving closer and closer to the Hylians. The few Gerudo had fled, and the Hylians were standing around, looking after the wounded and watching over each other. Nabooru stepped closer, then froze when she nearly ran into a Hylian who was tending to a figure on the ground. He stiffened.

Had he sensed her? She looked around, certain she hadn't made any movement. Then she heard it. A soft moan that she'd tuned out in her attempt at being cautious. Staying far back, she glanced behind her and to the left, seeing an old Gerudo leaning against a pillar, holding her arm. The Gerudo looked furious at herself for showing such weakness, and Nabooru sympathized. She even knew the old woman, though they had a bit of a love-hate (with emphasis on _hate_) relationship. But she knew what it was like to follow the Gerudo protocol--even though she ignored it--and felt bad.

The Hylian turned around, facing the Gerudo, and did something that shocked Nabooru. He began taking care of the woman, murmuring kind reassurances to her as he gently spread a red potion over her wounds.

Krysu was halfway across the area, and when she saw Nabooru, she mouthed, "_What's wrong?" _When Nabooru just shook her head, Krysu gestured for her to come with her.

She shook her head again to clear it. So what if Hylians cared about the Gerudo, when no one else did? They were still attacking, weren't they? They still had to die, didn't they?

Well, that's what Ganondorf would've said. She wasn't so sure. It surprised her, and unsettled her. The Hylians were supposed to be savage, greedy, stupid, and weak, living in splendor and hating the Gerudo for wanting that. Monsters with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. They made alliances with the Sheikah, for crying out loud! At the very least they were unpredictable and inconsistent. That was what she'd assumed, at least. She'd have to tell Ganondorf later.

She shook her head yet again, realizing she must look like one of the bobbing head cows Amalyse had traded her favorite gold necklace for. She was letting her emotions get in the way of her thinking. Very un-Gerudolike. Too Hylian-like.

_But then again,_ she wondered, trying in vain to imagine a Gerudo help an enemy, _is that so terrible?

* * *

_

The pointy-eared man fell to the ground without a sound. Ganondorf gently replaced his weapon, a heavy gold platter, with a glance to either side. Ridiculous, of course. Nabooru nor Krysu were anywhere nearby to witness his hypocrisy. But he could still see Nabooru, shaking her head at him and saying, "No violence, huh?"

Ignoring his muddled, useless thoughts, he stepped around the unconscious figure and tried to open the door he was guarding. It opened about an inch, then met resistance; they'd set up a barricade.

"Story of my life," he muttered dramatically, more for the purpose of talking than actual anger. "Cruising along happily, la-dee-da-dee-da, then BAM!" He punched the door for emphasis.

There was a scraping noise on the other side of the door, then a voice called out, "Who's there?"

"What does it matter?" he snapped back.

Silence greeted his words, and he thought he heard a girl whisper, "That sounds like Ganondorf."

Another person asked, "What's the password?"

"There's . . . password? . . . I . . . know that," someone else said in a muffled voice--he assumed they were talking behind their hands--but was quickly shushed. "Shut _up . . . _uh . . . What's the password?"

Ganondorf thought long and hard about this; if he answered incorrectly, they could come out there and try to kill him, unless they were who he thought they were. Five seconds later, he slammed his fist into the door again and hissed, "Open the damn door!"

"Yep, that's Ganondorf," someone said dryly, and he thought he recognized the voice as Aveni's.

The door opened, and Ganondorf found himself facing a sea of Gerudo faces. A pair of hands grabbed him and dragged him inside, then slammed the door behind him.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, peering through the dimness at the others. "Why aren't you out there fighting?"

"Because," Aveni explained patiently, letting go of him, "we don't know _why_ the Hylians chose to attack us, or how they got in. Until we can figure that out, I am not risking any more Gerudo lives. There are too few of us," she added sadly, looking at the one-hundred-something girls in the large room. "And that Hylian is guarding this room--" she said, in answer to Ganondorf's unspoken question, "because he thinks he is guarding a room full of prisoners."

He looked them over. "But you still have your weapons."

"He is a poor farmer or merchant, not the type to make brilliant decisions." Aveni glanced at him. "You approve of our plan, then, Your Highness?" She bowed low, and the other Gerudo followed suit hastily. People kept forgetting he was King, and a tiny voice in his head--sounding suspiciously familiar, though not his own--was annoyed, telling him to make sure they remember from then on.

"So you're just sitting in here?" Ganondorf asked, unimpressed. "While they take our home?"

"We were awaiting orders from our _King!" _one of the girls said hotly. He looked at her. She was the same age as Nabooru--the same generation, at least. In fact, he'd seen her around Nabooru . . . Tami, her name was. Tami crossed her arms. "So? What do we do?"

This generation was not very respectful. At least, not the ones Nabooru had influenced. He shrugged. "Fight back? Do something?"

Aveni held out her hand. She took out a necklace and slipped it over his head. He couldn't look at it without risking serious (not really) injury; he craned his neck and thought he caught a glimpse of something orange-yellow. Why was he wearing a necklace? Necklaces weren't cool.

Gesturing to the necklace, Aveni said, "That's the mark of the King." She looked up at him, her eyes and tone serious. "You're not supposed to get this until you're eighteen, but this is an important circumstance. You're our King, and it's time you act like one, and it's definitely time we all treat you like one." On that last comment she arched an eyebrow at him. He was reminded of a certain golden-eyed, loudmouthed Gerudo and grinned sheepishly.

"All right," he said, uncomfortable of the solemn, almost sentimental mood that had settled over the group. He was also half-afraid they'd all start bowing again. He stuffed his hands in his pockets (yeah, Gerudo pants have pockets--how else would they smuggle out their stuff?) and looked at the ground. "Well, I think the easiest way to figure out what's going on is to ask." He opened the door and dragged in the Hylian man (who had in fact woken up, unfortunately for him) by the ear, covering the poor farmer's mouth before he could say a word and dropping him unceremoniously on the floor. "Now, I am going to teach you all a lesson on how to ask questions," Ganondorf began conversationally. He picked up the Hylian by his collar and asked threateningly, "What are you doing here?"

"I-I'm guarding--I was guarding--the Gerudo p-prisoners," the man croaked, covering his face with his hands.

"Not _you, _you--I mean, what the hell are you and your Goddess-damned Hylians doing in our Fortress!"

"We're . . ." the man's voice grew stronger, and he straightened, looking Ganondorf in the eye. "We're merely stopping injustice."

Ganondorf almost laughed at the flowery language. Only Hylians spoke like that; other races, even the Sheikah sometimes, had the sense just to say what they meant. Of course, laughing might ruin the frightening-interrogator act he was going for. He lowered his voice even more, and shot the man with a steely glare. "Injustice?" he repeated softly, but not kindly.

"Yes, injustice! You have stolen what should belong to the whole land of Hyrule, keeping it to yourselves, not that we're surprised, of course--"

He was cut off as Ganondorf increased his grip on the farmer's shirt collar, pulling their faces closer to each other's. "What. Did. We. Take," he demanded, and this time the menace was real.

"The . . . the Triforce. Don't you even know what you've stolen?"

Ganondorf threw the man to the ground, placing his foot on the poor Hylian's abdomen. "See that?" he asked, turning to all the Gerudo, reclining backward as though without worries. "All it takes is a polite voice, patience, and a gentle touch." He offhandedly hit the man's temples, knocking him unconscious again.

"Now," he continued. "I think we should go look around outside, tell these _kind, understanding _people--" as he spoke, he stepped on the man's fingers-- "that they are mistaken, that we do not have the Triforce, and that if they don't leave, we will kill each and every one of them. No big challenge, really."

Aveni put a hand on his arm. "And, Your Highness," she added hastily, bowing, "if they don't leave?"

He gave her a flat, cold glare. "I thought I made it perfectly clear."

"I thought that was just an empty threat--" She gave him a warning look.

"Nope." He shrugged off her hand. "Any other questions? Good. Stay up here, though; I want you all nearby."

The Gerudo burst out of the room, whooping and brandishing their weapons. They had obviously wanted to fight, but someone--Aveni, no doubt--had stopped them. His mother stopped at the door and turned around.

"Ganondorf, what do you think you're doing? Setting up those Hylians for slaughter, innocent people, who want to defend what they think is theirs--"

"Innocent? They're here, aren't they?" Ganondorf shot back indifferently, striding past her.

He thought he heard her mutter something about "damn witches," but he ignored her.

Koume and Kotake hadn't affected him at all.

This was simply an . . . undiscovered strength.

And they'd need strength . . . if they were going to survive the war.

* * *

Blue ocean . . . blue sky . . . blue funky bird flying past . . . 

Demi was lost in a land of blue.

Suddenly a head popped up. Blonde hair, blue eyes, long pointed ears.

Had he seen this girl before?

"Hi!" she chirped, sticking out her hand. "I'm Annabelle!"

He looked at the grubby hand in front of his face, still trying to remember where he was. Flickering images swam through his head.

A shadow . . . a boat . . . seven pirates . . . seven _girl _pirates . . .

Seven girl pirates that hadn't washed in months . . .

And who could give one a whopping blow to the head . . . Demi closed his eyes against a splitting headache.

Apparently he was on their ship.

Lovely.

Annabelle stepped away from him. "I'm here to be your warden--Maria's words, not mine!" she added with a grin. "I'm s'posed to make sure you don't escape . . . ya know, into the ocean . . . Farore, that Maria's nuts. Also, I'll take care of keeping ya from gettin' hurt or somefink. Oh! And I can keep ya informed. Ty says I'm way too good at knowin' everythin' about everyone! So what's your name?"

Demi sat up; his headache was going away, and the blackness had faded from his vision. He was in a cabin, below decks, clearly. His face was about three inches away from a round window overlooking the sea. As furniture went, his room really wasn't very nice. He was sleeping on a bench, with an old potato sack as a blanket. He was in some old storage room, filled with old food and such. He turned to face Annabelle, who was watching him expectantly. He told her his name and paused; she was still looking at him.

"Any questions?" she repeated, sighing in obvious exasperation.

"Where am I?"

"You're on board the . . . well, it doesn't actually have a name yet," she explained, frowning. "I want to call it the _Jolly Roger, _'cause everyone knows that ship was sure popular, but Maria thinks it sounds stupid. And Liz thought it sounded stupid. And Ty . . . Actually, Ty thinks everythin's stupid, so I s'pose she shouldn't count, huh?"

"Right. And why am I here?"

"Because we captured you!" Annabelle beamed. She was wearing a long green dress, with a pouch and a dagger on a belt at her waist. Her dirty hair fell to her waist, hidden under a large black bandanna. She was also wearing elaborate earrings and a small black choker necklace. Her smile was so bright and happy; she didn't fit the pirate image at all. She was probably three or four years younger than he was.

"And can I go?" he asked, knowing what the answer would be.

She shook her head. "Not till ya talk to Maria. Speakin' o' which, she wants you to come and talk with her, when ya got all your questions answered."

"Just one more." That wasn't true; he had tons of questions, but he figured they could wait. "Who's Maria?"

"She's our captain." Annabelle took Demi's hand and dragged him behind her; out the room, up the stairs, and onto the deck (I have no clue about ship terms; I don't know which is the port side or the Whatever side or the Dark side, okay? Bear with me). Annabelle pulled him over to a tall girl with reddish-blonde hair that stuck out in unruly spikes under her black bandanna. Her back was to them, and when Annabelle put a hand on her shoulder, she stiffened, then turned to face them slowly. Her eyes were greenish blue, and she had high eyebrows that gave her a constantly-amused look. Her black tank top shirt was ripped at the bottom, the sleeves, and the collar. She was wearing a pair of baggy shorts with a huge belt, also sporting a dagger and a pouch, and a tiny silver anklet decorated her dirty bare feet.

"Thank you, Annabelle," the girl said, fingering a necklace identical to Annabelle's that hung around her neck. Annabelle gave Demi an apologetic smile then left. The girl turned her eyes on Demi. "You're the prisoner."

"Yep."

"All right, then, listen up: I don't tell you about me, you don't tell me about you; I don't wanna hear some sob story. You don't get no pity, I don't want any. Don't talk unless spoken to. You'll live in the storage room until the test. If you pass the test, you're a pirate; congratulations. If you fail, we throw you overboard. If you talk back, we throw you overboard. If you don't do what you're told, we throw you overboard. Oh, and the number-one rule: Get outta my face, but stay by my side. Got it? Good."

Demi nodded, feeling a vague sense of whiplash at her hurried instructions. He tentatively raised his hand, not wanting to go overboard. In any sense of the word.

The captain pointed at him, making the bracelets around her wrist jangle. "Talk."

"You're Maria, right?"

She swore. "Annabelle told you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah, I'm Maria. Din, that girl can't tell total strangers these things." She muttered the last part more to herself than Demi.

"Maria!" A girl, one he recognized as the one who'd hit him over the head, saluted, then said, "Who's this?"

"The prisoner," Maria said with a dismissive jerk of her head in his general direction. Earrings lined the entire bottom of each ear.

"Oh." The pirate grinned at him. "That's Bluebeard, didya know that?"

Maria scowled. "I'm not Bluebeard, Liz."

"C'mon, you're the best pirate out there, and ya gotta have a good pirate name--"

"What's wrong with Maria?"

The pirate ignored her. "Doesn't she look like a 'Bluebeard?'" she asked Demi, drawing an invisible rainbow in the air over Maria's head with her fingers as she said "Bluebeard."

"Get out of here!" Maria ordered. To Demi, she snapped, "Go back downstairs, the test'll be ready in a little while."

Demi went back to his room and looked out the window. Where were they now? Probably far away from Hyrule. He dropped his head into his arms with a weary sigh, wondering why it was never easy.

He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, Annabelle was gently shaking his shoulders. "Come on, Demi, it's time for you to take the test. Wake up, Demi."

He followed Annabelle as she left the storage room, but instead of going up to the deck, she went down to the very last room. The center of the room looked like the floor had caved in, with only the front and the back elevated. Level with the front and the back of the room were raised platforms, and from the ceilings hung ropes. Maria was standing at the other end of the room, on the raised portion. (Hopefully that description didn't suck. If it did, think: that Windwaker pirate-test-thing. It's pretty much identical).

"Okay, this is how it works. These platforms will stay up for a few minutes, then they'll sink back down" --as she spoke, the platforms slowly disappeared from sight-- "and you'll have to start over again. You swing on the ropes to get to the platforms. If you fall, you go back to the beginning. You get three tries to get across the room. Cut the shit" --Demi was giving her an incredulous look-- "the other girls have done it. Anyway, this is one of the oldest tests. Any self-respecting pirate ship has one of these. If you get across the room, I'll give ya instructions for the next test. There are three. Got it? Good."

Annabelle turned to Dimitri. "Listen, you push that switch" --she pointed at it-- "to raise the platforms, and that one" --she pointed again-- "to lower them. Good luck."

Demi stepped on the switch, watching as all the platforms flew into the air. He jumped forward, grabbed a rope, swung, and landed on the first platform. Feeling slightly more confident, he took another rope, tried for the next platform . . .

And realized, the second he'd let go, that there was no way he could make it to that platform, and saw where he should have gone. With a sickening crack, he landed on his shoulder.

Annabelle threw him a red potion. He caught it with his good hand and took a tiny sip, feeling the pain in his shoulder ebb. He climbed up the ladder, lowered the platforms, then raised them again.

He knew what he did wrong last time, and now it was surprisingly easy. Well, easier, at least. Jump, grab, swing, land. Jump, grab, swing, land. Jump, grab, swing--

Miss! He wildly kicked out and hooked his knee on the edge of the platform. He was staring at the floor, hanging upside down. He hauled himself back to his feet and continued. Jump, grab, swing, land . . .

And he was done. He smirked at the astonishment in Maria's expression. She quickly recovered.

"Not bad," she commented. "But that was the first test. They'll get a hell of a lot harder."

He grinned, feeling better than he had in a long time.

"I'd be disappointed if they didn't."

* * *

"Uh, hello? Great Deku Tree?" Saria called, squinting up at the giant tree. "Are you awake?" 

'Saria, there is no need to shout. I am awake. With this music all around, there is no doubt that I would not be awake.'

Note: funky things that look like this: ' around words mean that the great and glorious tree (or other inanimate objects, if I come across any) are speaking.

Zelda glanced around. It sounded like it came from the tree, but the tree hadn't moved. She wondered if someone behind the tree was talking.

Saria rolled her eyes, correctly interpreting her confusion. "Well, it can't exactly talk if it's a tree, now can it?"

"Oh. Right." _Duh._

'I see thou made it here in one piece.'

Zelda shrugged. "Yeah. And we were sorta wondering why."

The tree laughed (or at least, the sound of laughing came from the general direction of the tree. 'I see. You were 'sorta wondering' why I didn't allow you to perish in the Forest, like so many others. Yes. Well, I assume your intentions are not evil, though maybe not noble. I believe I will wait and see what you choose to do, and act justly.'

Zelda raised an eyebrow at "justly." Who says 'justly?'

"Why are you telling us this, when there is nothing we can do about it?" Daphnes asked.

'It is a warning.'

"Well there's a poetic way to put it," Zelda muttered under her breath.

'I have an extraordinary sense of hearing.'

"But you don't have ears."

'Obviously.'

"How can you hear, then?"

'I'm cool like that.' There was a laugh in his voice.

"Well," Daphnes cut in. "As riveting as this conversation is, I think we should be on our way."

'I have more to say.' The Great Deku Tree didn't move, but they could feel power emanating from it. 'I am placing my trust in you. That doesn't mean I can't take it away. Don't do anything you shouldn't be doing, or I will take away my trust, and my protection.'

"Uh, great, thanks. We're warned. Excellent." Daphnes inclined his head at the tree. As he ushered Zelda away, he hissed, "Can't you make a good first impression _once _in your life?"

"Why? This is much more interesting. Only the cool people bother to look past first impressions. I don't wanna hang out with non-cool people."

"So that's a no."

"That's a no," Zelda agreed cheerfully.

Saria bounded ahead of them, humming a happy little song to herself. Jumping up onto a branch that was hanging off the ground, she turned on one foot, swinging her arms around to keep her balance. She plopped down onto the branch. "Do you know where to go?"

"No," Daphnes said slowly. "We thought you did."

"Well, I have some ideas . . ." Saria closed her eyes in concentration. "If it was anyplace, it'd be there," she murmured to herself.

"Where?" Zelda asked.

Saria hopped down from her branch and hurried away, barely stopping to make sure Daphnes and Zelda were behind her. They ran--there really isn't that much to tell, besides the fact that Saria was filled with sudden energy, Daphnes wasn't, and Zelda was just frustrated from getting no answers. Oh, and the music is still there.

Finally Daphnes got close enough to Saria to grab her arm. She stopped, but her legs kept moving; the end result was her flat on her back, glaring up at Daphnes.

"Saria," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Look up at the sky! We're running in pitch blackness, almost. I dunno if whatever green-haired species you're from needs sleep, but we do. So just relax; the special place will still be there in the morning."

Saria sighed, but didn't get up. Daphnes let go of her arm and sat down, and once he and Zelda were comfortable, Saria spoke.

"I don't know if you're right." It was almost a whisper.

"What?" Zelda sat up, her forehead creasing in confusion.

"You said the special place will still be there in the morning. I don't think you're right."

Zelda looked at her with a strange expression on her face. "Start talking."

"The place . . . I go there sometimes, just to see it . . . but I can't get in. There's a wall or something. And then when I try to find it again, sometimes it's there, and sometimes it isn't."

"Maybe you just forgot where it was," Daphnes said reassuringly.

"That's what I thought. Or that it had moved. The Great Deku Tree has the power to move the trees when he wants to. So I stayed overnight, right outside it. And when I woke up . . . it was gone." Saria sighed, dropping her into her hands.

"Sounds like a good place for the Triforce," Daphnes said.

"Is there any way to tell when it's there or not?" Zelda asked.

"Let me think."

A thick silence filled the clearing. The forest seemed to be holding its breath.

"I think I know," Saria whispered. Daphnes sat up immediately, looking at her. Her eyes were wide, and her expression was despairing as she looked at him.

"Whenever the place is there, the forest is filled with music."

Daphnes looked around, realizing why she looked so upset.

The forest was completely silent.

The music was gone.

* * *

"Are you _sure _you didn't see him?" Jade asked the Hylian for the millionth time. 

He shook his head. "No, miss."

"Positive? Tall, with black, curly hair, brown eyes, a gold earring?" she pleaded desperately. "Goes by 'Demi?'"

"_No,_ miss." The man took her by the shoulders and steered her away. His eyes met hers. "I haven't. Go see the Sheikah if you want answers. Hear they know everything."

"Who're they?"

He turned her around, so that she was facing away from his ranch. "See that river? Go across the bridge and into the village, right? Then go to the tree near the entrance. There should be someone there. Talk to him, and he'll take you there. Especially since you got them red eyes. They don't trust Hylians, or Zoras, and _definitely _not Gerudo. The only people they really trust is themselves, and sometimes them Gorons. So since you look like a Sheikah, they'll know ya are one, even though ya are from far away an' all. See?"

Jade nodded and thanked the man, then followed his directions.

It had only been a day since she'd arrived. She wondered how she could've missed the pirates. Everyone talked about them, and she hadn't come across any.

Know who else she hadn't come across? Demi. She groaned, turning to another Hylian who was making his way up the river. "Sir?" she called, feeling a sense of hopelessness. "Sir? Can I ask you a question? Have you seen a boy, with black hair and brown eyes?"

"I don't think so."

"Please . . ."

_Here we go again._


	25. Divine Intervention and Kingly Niftiness

Nabooru whirled around the corner, slipping on the stone where someone had spilled water, and smacked into Ganondorf.

"What-are-you-doing-here?" she asked in one breath, windmilling her arms to keep balance.

"Trying-to-find-you," he responded just as quickly, grabbing onto Nabooru's shoulders for support. "What-did-you-do-this-time?"

"You don't want to know. Aah!" She stepped back and skidded, falling to the ground and landing on her butt.

"Aah!" And Ganondorf came with her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine!" Nabooru scrambled to her feet, glancing over her shoulder.

"What's going on?" Ganondorf called, trying to follow her.

"Nothing. Everything's dandy. Peachy keen. Nifty and all that. Don't worry about me, just 'cause I got thirty freakin' Hylians out for my blood. Nothing wrong with that." She started to leave.

"Wait!" Ganondorf grabbed her leg. "No you don't!"

Nabooru performed a rather lovely split, wobbled unsteadily, then, CRACK, fell on her face.

He brushed some wet hair out of his face. "What did you do?" he demanded, completely ignoring her angry protests.

"Krysu wanted to help the wounded Gerudo. And she couldn't do that with the Hylians there. So I was a distraction. Good enough for you? Will that satisfy you for ten seconds so I can _wipe the blood off my face!"_

"It's just a broken nose, where's your sense of adventure?" he teased.

"Back with all the Hylians; I think they stabbed the shit out of it with those pointy sticks of theirs." Nabooru winked.

"Nabooru! Ganondorf! What are you two doing! Get up, before the Hylians come find you!" Aveni stood over them, an irritated-yet-amused expression on her face. "The girls are waiting for you, _Your Highness," _she added, to remind him of who he was and what he was supposed to be doing.

"Right. Good. Yes. Great."

"Damn skippy," Nabooru added helpfully.

"Where do you get that stuff?"

"Damn skippy? I have no idea."

Aveni grabbed Nabooru and hauled her to her feet. "Where are the Hylians?" she demanded.

Nabooru jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Somewhere back there."

There was an ominous thud, followed by shouting, and Ganondorf assumed they'd all ran into the door at the end of the hallway. "That would be them, and now I've gotta go." To the door she called, "I'm right back here, if your wussy asses can keep up with me!"

With an angry cry, the Hylians surged as one through the door. Giving them a wave, she turned and hurried down the other way down the hall.

Aveni stared at Ganondorf with wide eyes. She looked up the hall where Nabooru had gone, down the hall, where the Hylians were gaining on them, then back at Ganondorf.

He shrugged, then stood. They followed her, hearing the Hylians' voices getting louder and louder. "Nabooru! You're leading them straight to the other Gerudo!" Aveni hissed as they caught up.

"Good! They can help me!" she whispered back. "Which way?"

"Take a left here . . . another left . . . one more left . . . and turn this corner . . . the one on the left . . . and . . . here."

Nabooru looked up and down the corridor. "We're like, two feet away from where we started!" she said furiously.

"Yes, but this will have set the Hylians back a bit," Aveni shot back smugly. "Now, through this door . ."

"Thank the Goddesses you're back," Amalyse complained as they entered the room. She was squashed right up against the door. "We've been waiting here forever." She rolled her eyes at Nabooru, still addressing Aveni. "It seems like all we've done is move from room to room and hide."

"That _is _all we've done," Tami shot back. "Aveni" -- she gave her a dirty look-- "told us to stay in here while Ganondorf _'gathers information.'_" She snorted. A few girls dared uneasy looks at one another, while one brave girl laughed derisively. The rest just stared straight ahead, like they were somewhere else.

"Well, I thought it would be safer--" Aveni began, flustered.

_"What?"_ Tami stood in front of Aveni, her hands on her hips. _"There. Are. Hylians. In. Our. Fortress," _she said slowly. "We need to get them not in the Fortress! Or at least _less_ in the Fortress, instead of letting them run around and use up the last of our supplies!"

Aveni shook her head, much less wrongfooted and much more angry. "I'm still your elder, and you don't know a Goddess-damn thing about what's good for you and what isn't!"

"Then let Ganondorf decide," Amalyse said simply.

Heads turned in his direction, and eyes burned into him. He fidgeted, not sure how to answer. He could let down his people, maybe cause them to disrespect or disobey him, maybe cause problems with trust later. Or let down his own _mother, _maybe force her to lose her position. "Uh . . . I think we should, you know, do what Tami said, and, well, get them out. But Aveni's idea was smart," he added hastily. "We didn't know what was out there, and it was good to stay and figure things out. So . . . I think we should spread out." He suddenly snapped into King-mode: all business. "Everyone to the right of Tami should take the fourth corridor and spread out from there. Everyone to the left of Jessa, take the third and sixth floors. Everyone else, except Nabooru and Krysu . . . go somewhere. Don't stop searching until I give the word."

"And what if we find Hylians?" Jessa pressed.

Aveni trained pleading eyes on him. He looked away, scanning the room. Thinking carefully, he answered, "We can't have any Hylians tell others about our Fortress. Right? Because they could have seen something important, something that could be very useful in a war. Besides, they'd think it was easy to break into the Fortress, if people are doing it and living to talk about it. They might do it more often. So no Hylian gets out alive. Plain and simple."

"But Ganondorf," insisted Aveni. "They believe what they're doing is right, even though it isn't. We can't--"

"They think we're savage," Ganondorf said quietly. "They think we're evil barbarians. Nothing is going to change years of hatred like that. Is there any chance we'd make alliances with the Sheikah?"

"That's different--"

"Is it?" His voice grew louder. "It isn't any different. They will never forgive us. There's nothing we can do about it. There's no point in trying."

"Ganondorf . . ."

He stared at Aveni, and his voice was quiet again, though it contained a hint of anger. "They think we're bloodthirsty killing machines. That's a fact. It's not going to change." He looked over the Gerudo in the room. "Why not live up to our so-called reputation?"

Silence greeted his words. Some Gerudo looked worried, some eager, but most were expressionless. Including Nabooru, who stared at the door. Only the slight furrow in her eyebrows and the shadow of a wry smile showed any emotion. If he read her mood right, she was . . . disapproving, but understanding. She didn't like the harsh means, but there was no other way. He smiled ruefully. Easy to relate to that.

But he was the King, and he could make whatever orders he wanted.

And he wanted the Hylians to pay.

"Like I said before, no Hylian gets out alive."

* * *

Daphnes doubted anyone slept very much. Maybe Zelda did. He hoped so; she had to be tired. But he didn't, even though he was exhausted. His brain kept whirring around and around . . . 

The Triforce was gone. There was nothing he could do about it. Hyrule's last chance for peace was gone. This whole stupid journey was for nothing.

So pointless . . .

Why was everything he did so _pointless_? He didn't do anything that would change the world or whatever. Unless it was to royally screw up. And he was supposed to be the prince!

Prince . . . royally screw up. He chuckled. Well, it was fitting, at least.

Man, was his brain messed up from sleep deprivation! Or maybe he was nuts. Maybe none of this was happening.

Maybe he was a figment of his own imagination.

_Focus_. He thought back to his original train of thought--before it went off the cliff into insanity. Oh, right. Prince--royally screw up. He chuckled again.

_Stop!_

Okay . . . his life sucked, and he was an idiot.

What was so great about that?

Nothing, that's what.

The Gerudo were going to attack. And why shouldn't they? The Hylians had banished them to the desert to starve. His father hadn't even listened to the King of the Gerudo. They had to be angry. Which they had every right to be. If _he _was King, he would have . . . probably messed things up even more.

He groaned, throwing his arms over his face.

Everything was falling apart.

The Gerudo were going to declare war.

The Hylians would expect him to fight back, which seemed like the wrong thing to do.

The Sheikah would be dragged into it; how could they not, if they were bound to serve the Royal Family? The Gorons were reasonable people. They might stand by the Hylians if Daphnes presented the situation in the right way . . . by omitting all the important details . . . like how they kicked out the Gerudo and didn't help them at all. The Zoras would definitely turn on them. The Hylians had completely ignored all their requests, and stole their sapphire. Which, of course, didn't work. Stupid rock.

He was going to fix it . . . until the Triforce disappeared.

"Ugh . . ." Daphnes rolled over and almost collided with a tree.

He wasn't a religious person. The priests usually dealt with things like that. He believed in the Goddesses, but he wasn't one of those people who bless their meals and pray to them all the time.

But he was out of ideas.

"Din, Nayru, Farore," he whispered, keeping one eye on the sky, which was growing paler. "I need help." Unsure of what to add, he picked up some dew-covered leaves and threw them into the air. "Tell me what to do."

And a soft melody rang through the trees.

* * *

Three minutes earlier, although time means nothing to the Goddesses, Din was lounging in front of a large bowl-shaped crater. It had mystic symbols all around the sides, and was filled with what looked like a shimmering liquid.

Din poked a slender finger into the liquid and swirled it around. Her bloodred fingernail seemed to mix with the liquid, turning it red. A second later, it had cleared, and a forest was visible, floating in the bowl. A young man--the future King of the Hylians--was sitting on his knees, praying. His voice echoed up out of the bowl and through the Sacred Realm. "I need help . . . Tell me what to do . . ."

Din pursed her lips, poking at the water again. Images floated across the surface of the water at lightning speeds.

"Yes," she murmured to herself. "But what if he . . ." She poked it for the third time, and the images changed again.

She leaned so close to the water, her nose practically scraped the surface.

"What are you going to do?" a voice asked from just above her shoulder. Din squealed, and almost fell into the water. She grasped the sides of the bowl, turning an angry glare onto her sisters. Fire actually licked at her fingers and danced in her eyes.

Farore grinned, and helped Din to her feet. Standing next to each other, the contrast between each of them was blatantly obvious.

Din's skin was paper-white, just like her sisters', and her layered hair fell in shimmering red waves to her hips. Her eyes were a color identical to Ganondorf's. Her lips were ruby red, matching her fingernails, and she wore a tight black vest over a red, orange and yellow low-cut, long-sleeve shirt and a short black skirt slit up to mid-thigh. Her striking features were anything but stereotypical; with high cheekbones framed by her wild hair, a thin face devoid of makeup, and thick, arched eyebrows, she had a wild beauty very few expect to see in a goddess. Her earrings were little silver hoops, with a tiny Triforce in the center.

Nayru had the same white skin, red lips, and earrings, but she had a much cheerier, and a much less provocative, appearance. Her eyes were bright blue, darker than Zelda's, and had deep wisdom hidden beneath the obvious joy. She had navy blue hair cut just below her chin in a cute bob. Her slight frame was covered in a sky blue sun dress decorated with blue daisies. Her fingernails were the same blue as her hair, but they were short, and slightly bitten-looking, unlike the sharpened claws of Din's nails. Her face was round and pink, always looking flushed with glee. She looked more like a little girl than a centuries-old goddess.

Farore was the most surprising-looking of all the goddesses. Much more practical than Din and less carefree than Nayru, she wore her hair curled down to her ribs. It was black, with wide green stripes. Her earrings were hidden by her hair most of the time, except when she was wearing her pale green glasses. She didn't need to, of course--goddesses have better-than-perfect vision--but she liked the way they looked. Her porcelain skin had no trace of cosmetics, and her clothes were simple: a long turtleneck dress that clung to her hips and swirled around her feet; the color of Granny Smith apples. Her eyes were a quick, intelligent green, magnified by her glasses. Brown freckles dotted her nose. She didn't look at all like a goddess; she could have passed as a Hyrulian with a green fetish.

Looking over the other two, Farore said, with a long-suffering sigh, "Din, why do you have to dress so . . . so . . ."

"Cool . . . ly?" Din suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

"So . . . provocatively," Farore finished. "You really should wear looser shirts, and that skirt could be longer, and _please_ yank up that blouse . . ."

"Oh, Farore." Din gave her a pitying look. "We can look _however_ we want, dress in _any_ clothes we want to. Why in the _world_ would I want to dress like somebody's grandmother? We _are_ supposed to be beautiful, you know."

"Are you saying I'm not?"

"No . . . but if I dress up like an old lady, _I_ will. You can do the bookish, geeky thing so much better than I can."

"Gee, thanks!"

"Who says 'gee,' Grandma!"

Nayru gave a little cough. "What did you decide, Din?" she asked, and, despite her young appearance and naive behavior, she reminded them how smart she really was.

"Oh, right." Din raised her head high. "I'm going to take him to the Triforce."

Nayru smiled, but Farore looked horrified. "But . . . what about . . ." she began angrily.

"Oh come on, it was going to happen anyway. Our little creatures" --she looked fondly at the bowl-- "are much too violent to let bygones be bygones."

"We could stop it, if only--"

"No, we couldn't," Din shot back. "I've asked. I've tried every possible outcome there is, and it all points to that. It's going to happen, and I think the smartest thing to do is let him take it." Farore and Nayru stared at her. Farore looked frustrated, but Nayru was still smiling. Either she approved of Din's idea, or she was totally oblivious.

"Oh, fine, then," Farore snapped. "But if it all backfires, don't you dare blame me." Angrily, she stormed away.

Din sighed, then sat back down in front of the bowl. She stuck her finger into the water, watching the forest reappear. Daphnes was still sitting there, looking incredibly hopeful.

Nayru came and sat next to her. "You're doing the right thing, you know," she said softly.

"Yeah." Din swirled the water gently, blowing on it every few seconds. The trees' leaves rustled, Daphnes looked up, watching them.

"May I?" Nayru asked. Din smiled, sitting back to let her sister take her place. Nayru swirled the water, blew on it once, then started to sing.

* * *

"Ok, listen up. This is Ty. She is our champion fighter. You can beat her, then you've passed this test. Got it? Good." 

Demi nodded at Maria. "What do I use to fight with?" he asked.

She gave him a death glare, then decided she probably should answer his question. "This." She threw him a short sword.

He winced as he caught the sword, looking at it apprehensively. He'd taken a fighting class, but that was hand combat. It'd take a miracle to do this.

He tried to focus on his opponent, Ty, but his eyes were drawn constantly to her matching scimitars. They glimmered prettily in the early morning sunlight. They looked almost innocent, sitting there, reflecting the ocean and the sky.

_Yeah, and they'll innocently tear you into a bloody lump. _Demi groaned. The Dark Triforce could've picked any other time to rear its evil head . . .

"And . . . go."

Demi ducked instinctively, and Ty's scimitars sliced the air an inch in front of his face. She'd been expecting him to do that.

"That was a warning," she said, lifting her scimitars again.

_Roll forward. _

**What? **Demi demanded the Dark Triforce silently.

_She'll be expecting you to move backward or to the side. No one would dare to move _toward_ the weapon._

**There _is_ a reason for that . . .**

_Shut up. On my word . . . if you'll trust me._

Demi didn't answer, but he gritted his teeth and clutched his sword. What could he do?

Sensing his hesitation, it said, _I want you alive as much as you do. What do you think I would do without a body? Now . . . go. _

He rolled forward, scraping his bare back on one of the blades and leaving a bloody streak. But he was still alive.

**Anything else?** he asked reluctantly.

_Yes. Now kick out to the side-- _

Demi kicked. There was a thud, then a soft cry of surprise or pain.

_--And roll to the right. _

He felt the breeze of the scimitar as it whipped past him.

_Good. Grab her ankle--it's just behind your head--and give it a hard tug. She's trying to get up. _

Ty sprawled on top of him as he did what the Dark Triforce said.

After a few minutes--or was it a few hours? The time seemed endless--of hard fighting, acting and reacting, doing what he was told . . . after that battle, Ty fell to the ground, nearly unconscious.

She looked up at him and glowered. Standing quickly, she brushed herself off and stalked away. He watched her go. She was covered in blood, and the attempt to appear dignified seemed to be sapping the last of her energy.

Annabelle rushed to his side with a water-covered cloth. "That was amazin'!" she gushed, mopping up the blood around his face.

"Thanks," he said distractedly, watching Maria go to Ty. He strained to hear what they were saying.

"I can't believe it. That's crazy--did you let him win?" Maria asked. Demi's neck and face flushed in embarrassment.

Ty gave him a resentful glare, then turned back to Maria. "No. The kid did that by himself. He's got talent. Sucks, doesn't it?"

Annabelle noted the exchange, and the interest Demi had in it. Maria was right--the girl did know too much. "Don' worry 'bout Ty," Annabelle said.

"She hates my guts," he replied simply.

"Yeah, so? She hates everyone's guts. 'Cept Maria. Dunno why. I have a theory--" But she was cut off as Maria strode up to them.

"Annabelle, you can go," she said. "All right, you beat Ty. There's still one more test, so don't get cocky. Cockiness is not good. I don't want it in my pirates, and I don't give a damn if that's how pirates are supposed to be. Got it? Good." As she turned to leave, she glanced back over her shoulder. "Not bad, by the way."

Demi leaned back against the side of the boat, looking up at the still-rising sun.

**How did you learn to fight like that? **

_I've been around a long time. Let's just leave it at that._

Demi didn't know what to say to that. He didn't want to "leave it at that," but knew the Dark Triforce wouldn't tell him any more.

**Thanks, by the way. **

_Just call me a miracle. _

And Demi wondered, even after what had happened, even after cursing the Goddesses again and again for inflicting the Dark Triforce on him, if that's exactly what this thing was.

Maybe it was sent to him to do something important.

Maybe it really was a miracle.

* * *

Zelda was woken abruptly by someone shaking her shoulders. And not gently.

Wham. Her head hit the ground. Wham. Her chin hit her chest. Wham. Wham. Wham.

Wham! "Zelda! It's back!" Wham!

She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The lilting melody had filled the forest, and Daphnes was shaking her. His round face was alight with happiness and wonder.

"Can you believe it?" Once he realized she was awake, he let her go and went over to Saria, who was sitting up, watching the forest. She put her hand on a tree and closed her eyes. When she looked back up at them, she said, "The trees are talking about a change in the air. Something's been disturbed. I think that's the Triforce. It's not supposed to be back this soon."

"Well," Daphnes began, hoisting a small bag over his shoulder. "Do you mind taking us where you think it is?"

"Sure."

The forest was like a maze; Zelda was relieved Saria knew where she was going. When they reached a clearing, the music rose to a deafening roar. Zelda stepped forward bravely.

"Wait!" Saria grabbed her arm as the ground opened up beneath Zelda's feet. They both screamed as Zelda plummeted through the leafy forest floor, dragging Saria down with her. With a cry of pain, they landed on the stone floor below.

Daphnes leaned over the edge of the hole, peering into blackness. "Are you all right?" he shouted down.

"Uh . . . I think so," Zelda called back. "Saria twisted her ankle, though. It might be broken . . . I hit my head on something, but I'm not sure it's too bad. Hurts like hell, though."

"What's down there?"

Saria's voice rose out of the gloom, coming out in gasps. "There's . . . some sort . . . of tunnel . . . and that's . . . pretty much it. I can't . . . really see . . . very well. It's . . . too dark."

"Should I come down?"

"Sure, why not?" Zelda answered, her voice dripping sarcasm._ "We've_ both suffered minor to moderate injuries, but _you'll_ probably be fine. And what could _possibly_ be more fun than hurtling yourself down a hole into darkness? I, for one, think--"

"Zelda? Shut up." She really wasn't making this easy. He looked into the seemingly endless depths. "It's not that far," he muttered to himself. "Just a little drop . . . onto a nice, cushiony stone floor." He took a deep breath, then threw himself into the hole, landing painfully on his back.

Saria was leaning against the wall, clutching her ankle. Her face was deathly pale. Zelda was pacing the underground room, her hair matted with blood. She looked up at the hole they'd come through. "That was probably . . . a ten-foot drop?" she guessed. She jerked her head at Saria. "She landed on the side of her foot. There was a snap and everything. I landed on the side of my head. Good thing nothing happened to me." She tapped the side of her head, then wiped the blood off on her dress. "I've got a hard head."

Daphnes sat up. He was winded, but otherwise fine. He helped Saria to her feet, putting one arm around her waist. Zelda hurried to her other side. Now that he was looking at it close up, he could see that her ankle was twisted in an unnatural direction, her foot pointed grotesquely behind them. A glistening white bone could be seen poking out of her leg, surrounded by crimson blood.

"Do we go down there?" Daphnes asked, pointing down the tunnel with his free hand.

Saria gave a weak nod of consent, and Zelda shrugged, so they continued off in that direction.

"Saria," Daphnes asked as they trudged slowly along, "do you know where this goes?"

She shook her head. "Nuh-uh. I've never . . . been down here before . . . but I think . . . we're going in the . . . right direction . . . The music's . . . louder."

"How did ya miss the big ol' gaping hole in the ground?" Zelda huffed, tripping over a rock as she spoke.

"The trees . . . warned me," Saria said simply, "and I went . . . around."

"What is with this whole tree-talking thing?" Zelda continued, apparently looking for something to talk about.

"It's one of my powers . . . as a Sage." Saria almost collapsed as she put weight on her ankle, crying out in pain. Daphnes caught her before she hit the ground. "I'm . . . fine," she replied, in answer to his concerned expression. "I can also . . . heal . . . and talk . . . to animals."

"Heal?" Zelda raised her eyebrows. "Um, _hello?"_

"Not . . . on myself. Which has never . . . been a problem . . . until now. I don't know why . . . I can't heal myself."

". . . Alrighty." Zelda shrugged, then wrapped her arm around Saria's waist again. She turned toward Daphnes. "You don't have a red potion or anything, do you?"

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. You?"

" Well," she began cheerfully. "I have . . . nothing. Literally." She looked down at her torn, stained dress. "This isn't even mine. Sorry."

"That's--" But he was cut off as something leapt from the shadows. It moved to fast for them to see it very well. It was a blur of silver and claws and teeth. It stopped for a split second, and Daphnes caught a glimpse of a wolf-like thing, with glowing eyes the color of rubies. It pulled its lips back in one looked like a grin, revealing yellowed teeth. Lunging at Saria, whose leg was bleeding profusely now, it gently clamped its jaws around her foot, digging aforementioned teeth into her leg. It looked up at Zelda, who was rummaging around for a rock or something to use as a weapon, then to Daphnes, who was frozen, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. It gave them a mock salute, raising a ham-sized paw into the air. Then, with a howl, it was gone.

Daphnes turned to Zelda, who was staring at where the wolf had been seconds before. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up. She raised her eyebrows at him pleadingly. "We have to go after them, don't we?" she asked. Daphnes didn't reply, watching her stonily. Finally she sighed, and went back to staring at nothing. "Fine," she conceded moodily. He grinned, and gave her a peck on the cheek. The corners of her mouth twitched, and she picked up a sharp rock. Pointing down the tunnel with it, she looked up at him expectantly.

"Lead the way."

* * *

Ganondorf watched all the Gerudo file out of the room. Pretty soon the room was empty except for him, Aveni, Krysu, and Nabooru. He turned to his mother. "Could you . . ." He jerked his head at the door. "I need to talk to them."

"Yes. But I need to talk to you, too," Aveni replied, holding her head high.

He sighed. She was getting very annoying. "I don't want to hear it. Now . . ." Aveni, getting the not-so-subtle leave-me-alone vibes, turned and strode away, fuming.

Nabooru turned and gave him an expectant look. "What do you want?" she asked, sitting down on a crate. Krysu sat next to her, fiddling with her bracelets.

"Do you think you'd mind doing something extremely stupid and probably dangerous?"

Nabooru's smile widened. "Always."

Krysu nodded, looking sick.

"Good." He took their arms and pulled them closer, glancing back at the door. "Now, if you could just . . ." In a whisper, he told them exactly what he was planning, and how he needed them.

Nabooru gave him a wink. "Aye, aye, captain," she whispered. She put her hand on her chest. "And I solemnly swear that I won't get myself killed. Not on purpose, anyway."

"Good," Ganondorf repeated, putting his hand on top of hers. "I'm holding you to that promise."

Krysu cleared her throat uneasily, glancing at the door, then slipped outside.

As Nabooru left, she gave him a confident grin, and he felt his heart sink. It wasn't that he _loved _her, per se. Gerudo weren't allowed to fall in love, since love is weakness. No, this was protectiveness he was feeling. After all, it was _her _life on the line, not his. Protectiveness and a very strong _like. _

He thought about her perfect lips as she smiled at him, and her shimmering waves of red hair that she refused to keep in a ponytail, and his heart rate sped up unexpectedly.

Okay, so he was attracted to her. That was normal.

And definitely _not _love.


	26. For the Love of Trees

YO! It took me forever to update this. Because I have to go to my friend's house. It's annoying. And also I've been watching a movie. Several hundred times. I'm obsessed with it. I'd say the name, but it'll make me go all giggly. Tee-hee! Well, enjoy! (P.s. This has Demi, Amanda)

* * *

_Chapter Sixteen_

Nabooru was ready to scream.

Why? She herself wasn't completely sure.

She could blame it on a lot of things, of course. Her immense discomfort, for example.

She was in perfect battle stance: knees bent, feet planted on the ground, shoulders parallel with hips, one arm bent over her head and holding a scimitar, the other bent behind her back and holding her other scimitar. Uncomfortable at the best of times.

This was not the best of times.

She was crammed in a broom cupboard, just roomy enough for a large cucco to move around in. Unfortunately for her, she was slightly bigger than a large cucco.

_Why_ was Nabooru in a broom cupboard? Because some stupid Hylians were celebrating the fact that they had "captured" the Gerudo, and were getting very drunk.

Sad, really, how much the Hylians underestimate the Gerudo.

Another reason she could be about to scream was that, although it wasn't fun just letting the Hylians do whatever they wanted, she _really _didn't want to do what she was about to do.

Actually, that wasn't totally true. She liked the danger, the battle, the sneakiness of it all. That part was exciting. What she didn't like was that she had to go around killing Hylians who really weren't nearly as bad as they'd seemed. That make her a little uncomfortable.

Oh, and there was the whole matter of her part in Ganondorf's plan. She'd get to do what she'd been begging to do since she could hold a scimitar. It was her life's dream and all that. The opportunity of a lifetime . . .

Fine. She'd admit it. Well, not out _loud, _but . . . you get it!

She was scared.

What she had to do . . . she could die.

And she was afraid.

But what other choice was there? Disobey her King, who she'd sworn loyalty? Betray Ganondorf, who she . . .

Well, anyway. She couldn't say no.

Nabooru rested her head against the back of the cupboard and closed her eyes, almost completely missing her cue.

"Heyyy, Johnny! We really whupped butt, didn' we? Didn' we?" one of men shouted, his words slurred.

"Tha' we did," someone else--Johnny, apparently--agreed. "This 'ere Fortress, it ain't tha' hard to get inta, is it? 'Cuz we 'ere did it, and we beat 'em by workin' togetha! Didn' we?"

"Workin' togetha . . ." a man mused, scratching his chin. "We worked togetha becuz we're friends . . . an' friends work togetha . . ."

"I love you, man . . ."

And they were off, drinking and talking about how much they loved each other. Suddenly Johnny stood, raising a drink into the air. "To us! We came 'ere, and we beat them stupid Gerudo!"

"Oh, really?" a cold voice asked from a dark corner. They all turned, leaning slightly on tables and chairs to keep from falling over. A dagger flew from the corner, impaling Johnny through the neck.

The men looked down as one at Johnny, lying on the ground, then back at the corner. Their expressions changed from confusion to sadness to dim understanding to terror. Someone collapsed on the floor, shouting, "Johnny! Don't die! We'll help you!" Another had picked up a rag and was trying to wrap it around Johnny's neck, saying again and again, "Hold 'im steady, boys, hold 'im steady . . ."

Krysu threw another dagger, and it hit the man with the rag in the back, sending him sprawling over Johnny.

Nabooru forced herself into action, pulling out her scimitars and bounding out of the cupboard. She reluctantly began to fight, easily incapacitating each Hylian, blocking out the sounds of their screaming, their crying.

_It's war, _she told herself. _They have to die. _

She didn't _like _the Hylians, but she felt a little sorry for them. They were so pathetic, yet so sure of themselves . . . how could she not feel a little pity for people who had no chance?

But she wasn't weak. She'd do whatever she had to. It didn't matter if she _liked_ doing it. She wasn't like Aveni, shutting herself away because she didn't want to kill the Hylians. It even made sense, what they had to do. So it didn't make any difference if she felt a little . . . uneasy doing it.

A Hylian tried to sneak up behind her and hit her over the head with a beer bottle, and she absently lopped his head off, then grabbed his body and flung it over her, hitting the person in front of her. She slammed her blade into this person's back, slicing him open from nose to navel.

_And it's not like I want to _become _a Hylian. _She continued her train of thought as though she hadn't been interrupted. _I just feel bad for a pathetic species. There's nothing wrong with that. _

All the Hylians were dead. Their bodies littered the room. With a pang of guilt, Nabooru wondered if any of them had families who were wondering when these men were coming home. And now they wouldn't be.

Krysu plucked a piece of lint off her pants. "Hey, you coming?" she asked.

Nabooru nodded, heading toward the Hylians. She propped up a man that was the least bloody and yanked off his shirt. He collapsed into her, and she could see that the back of his skull was smashed in. Krysu's work. She shuddered and laid him on the ground. He really wasn't bad-looking, now that she thought about it. Maybe a few years older than her, and with long brown hair. Pulling on his shirt and pants, she muttered to Krysu, "This is so wrong!"

"Why?" Krysu shrugged. "It's not like they'll be using them." She let her hair fall down her back _a la _Nabooru and covered it with a hood.

"Yeah, but still . . ." Nabooru tucked her hair down her shirt and pulled a hood over her head. Krysu shoved a pillow up her shirt, tying it with a belt.

"Goddess, Nabooru, just deal with it. Does this look okay?" she asked, turning side to side so Nabooru could see the makeshift beer gut from every angle. "It makes the clothes fit better, and hides my boobs," Krysu explained, seeing Nabooru's confused look.

Nabooru shrugged, then imitated her, noticing that it did make her look more . . . man-like. If that was a good thing. They made their way out to the front of the Fortress, hoping Ganondorf was right.

He was. Once they'd left, two figures stepped out of the darkness, looking like they'd blended with the shadows. Nabooru made sure her face was perfectly obscured.

The figures were Sheikah, just as Ganondorf had expected. One girl, one boy.

The Sheikan eyed them suspiciously. "Where are the others?" the boy demanded.

Nabooru glanced at Krysu. "We're the only ones," she answered carefully, working to make her voice sound appropriately sorrowful but triumphant.

The Sheikan gave each other resigned looks; I-knew-it looks. They hadn't expected _anyone _to get out alive.

"How did you two survive when no one else did?"

"One of our friends sacrificed" --Nabooru hoped the Hylians were smart enough to know what that word meant; maybe it had too many syllables?-- "his life for ours. He was brave and noble. His glory will be great."

The girl raised her eyebrows. "Really? I didn't realize Hylians cared so much about glory," she noted suspiciously. The boy silently made his way around his friend, so that he was behind them. If she had been a Hylian she wouldn't have noticed, but Gerudo were prepared for this type of attack.

The girl stepped forward. "And what you said. 'His glory will be great.' You sound very educated and formal for a Hylian, no?"

Nabooru tried her best to act indignant. "Are you saying we're stupid? That we're not formal? Huh?" She even tried slurring her words a bit.

The Sheikah girl shrugged. "Of course not. We are loyal to the Hylians, and don't think bad of them." Her red eyes glittered eerily in the light of the torch she was holding. "We were just worried the Gerudo had . . . taught you some bad habits."

_She knows. _The realization hit her and left a sinking pit of ice in her stomach, coating her body and crawling up to her brain. She'd failed before they'd even had a chance. They didn't even make it to the Sheikan Caverns or Hyrule Castle. They hadn't gathered any information. Not one tiny shred of information.

Nabooru narrowed her eyes, surveying the girl, knowing Krysu had her eye on the boy. The Sheikah was holding a torch. That could be a weapon . . . but it would be makeshift at best. She doubted the girl had any training fighting with torches. And it would take too long for her to grab her real weapons. It would be easy . . . unless the Sheikah were as good as they were said to be. Then it would be hard.

And there was the boy to consider . . .

Before she could make a decision, Krysu threw herself backward, ducking under the Sheikan boy as he swung his sword.

_Bam!_ The boy leapt back, countering Krysu's next attack with moves as fast and accurate as her own. The boy was out of the way, but Nabooru had lost the element of surprise. Unless . . .

Instead of moving to attack the girl, Nabooru leapt back, shoving Krysu out of the way and fighting the boy. The girl stood, flustered, for about half a second. In that time, Krysu got over her own shock, and they began battling.

Nabooru was frustrated as hell. The Sheikah, as it turned out, were just as fast as the Gerudo. They were more agile, as well, but the Gerudo had strength on their side. It was way too well-matched.

Krysu cried out in pain, and for a second Nabooru turned to look at her. The boy jammed his elbow in her side, hooking his knee around her leg. Nabooru fell back, her sword flying out of her hand, and the boy detached himself, standing over her with his short sword raised.

She looked up at him, trying to detect some weakness, but there was none. The Sheikah were practically flawless, something she'd just now learned to respect.

They locked eyes, and in that second she saw something that scared her. There was no pity, no remorse in his red eyes. Their hatred was definitely mutual, and mercy was not an option.

She was going to die.

And it was going to hurt.

A lot.

* * *

"Land ahead!"

Demi sat up, banging his head into a crate. The pirate's voice wasn't familiar, but he didn't care. Land . . . could he escape?

Annabelle, his own personal best friend/roommate, sat up as well and grinned at him. "I think we're comin' up near Penign. That's one of the richest islands around. Aren't you excited--Hey! What's wrong?"

Demi had dropped his head in his hands with a groan. Penign was one island west of Fotmea. He was practically back where he'd started. "This is just too _perfect," _he muttered darkly, silently cursing the Goddesses.

"It's okay." Annabelle patted his shoulder. "You'll like Penign. It's very fancy. And has great food." She gently pulled him to his feet. "Come on. Maria wants us up on deck."

Once she saw them, Maria stormed over and stuck her finger in his face. "All right, now this is your last test. You get to go on your little 'plundering' trip, you go with Ty and Annabelle. You meet up at the ship with something of interest, and you're a pirate. If you don't, we throw you overboard, unless you did something really remarkable while on shore, and Ty or Annabelle tells me about it. Then we'll consider keeping you. Got it? Good." She turned on her heel and stormed away.

"Why was she so angry?" Demi asked Annabelle, confused. How had he messed up, thirty seconds into the task?

She looked surprised. "What? No, she's always like that." She pulled him over to a little rowboat. "Come on! You're comin' with us!" She gave him a quick runthrough while they boarded the boat. "I'm great at pickpocketin'," she said with a grin, "and I can grab things when no one's lookin'. But Ty here" --she pointed at Ty, who was scowling-- "can fight better'n anyone I know. 'Cept you, o' course. So she does the confrontations, an' I go in an' steal the stuff while ev'ryone's distracted."

_But then, what will _you _do? _The Dark Triforce wondered ironically.

**Shut up, **Demi shot back, irritated.

_I mean, it's not like there's much you can do. They seem to have it all covered. You'll end up just standing there, watching them do all the work. That won't earn you a chance to be a pirate. A chance to go overboard, maybe . . . _

Demi turned its voice out, though, watching the large island grow even bigger as they approached it. He looked at all the fancily-dressed people as they strolled along, totally oblivious to the pirates approaching in their rickety, beat-up rowboats. For a moment he tried to see them the way pirates did. It was different. It added a new appeal to pirating.

Annabelle pulled the boat up to some rocks and tied it up. Then the three of them silently hid among the rocks, waiting.

Demi leaned toward the girls. "Aren't we supposed to be running around, lighting things on fire and screaming 'Yo, ho, ho, a pirate's life for me'?" he asked. "You know . . . pirating?"

Ty just gave him a disgusted look, but Annabelle laughed. "Well, that's the other group's job," she explained. "They do all the stuff you said; shoutin', stealin', scarin' people. But then we go an' get all the important, valuable things. The things people left in their hurry to get rid of them pirates. They never suspect any ones that are _sneaky."_ She gave him a wink. "I guess Maria thought you were the sneaky type."

"Great," he quipped.

Ty grabbed them both by the arm. "That's the signal," she said.

Demi almost laughed. It was an extra-loud chorus of "Yo, ho, ho, a pirate's life for me."

They crept toward the town, staying away from the center, where the others were. "All the good places are on the outside, anyway," Ty said dismissively.

Demi stopped outside a large farmhouse, but Ty gestured him forward. "We can do better than _that."_

As annoying as it was for him to admit it, Ty did have talent at pirating. She was just so _certain. _But not cocky. She was just always right.

Finally she stopped them on the other side of the island, in front of a mansion that would have made Jade's home look like a doll house. They could barely hear the sounds of the others. Ty strode up to the front door, and had her hand on the doorknob before Demi stopped her.

"Won't they have security?"

"Like what?" she asked, laughing. "Do they have alarms that will go off when the doors open? That will call the guards and have them come in and attack us? People don't have magic things like that!"

"No," Demi replied patiently. "But they _do _have locks. And a guard dog inside."

"Puh-lease. I saw those the second I saw the house. And I've got it covered." She pulled out a long stick with painful-looking barbs on it, and a little cylinder. "You're looking at an expert pirate." She stuck the barbed end of the stick into the keyhole, and with a _pop_, the door swung open.

The dog lunged at them, drool hanging out of its mouth in gossamer strands. Ty threw the cylinder, and when it hit the ground in front of the dog, long silvery-blue threads of light burst out of the cylinder and wrapped around the animal. It glared up at Ty and struggled against the threads, but they didn't break.

Ty turned and smirked at Demi. "What was that about security?"

"What . . . what are . . ."

"Gifts. From the Goddesses (I guess). I found them. They're pretty cool. Now are you coming?"

He nodded. Ty stayed downstairs, rummaging through random objects and keeping an eye on the door. Annabelle and Demi went upstairs. He fingered a gold ring, then put it down. Pirates had enough riches, for the most part. It wouldn't be important enough to get noticed. He needed to find something _amazing._

But still . . . he slipped it into his pocket and kept looking.

Some more jewelry, a wig (which he took, figuring it would be worth a laugh, even if it had no value), and some dusty old books were all he found in the room worth anything. He walked right past the bookshelf, scanning the titles disinterestedly.

_Wait! _

Demi stopped, hearing a definite note of interest in the Dark Triforce's "voice." Intrigue . . . mixed with . . . fear?

_That one on the far left. Gold cover. Pick it up. _

He did, looking at the title. "That's not in Hyrulian," he murmured, turning it over. "What do you want with it?"

_Open it. _The Dark Triforce was definitely panicked. Demi opened the book, turning to a random page. "This good?" he asked softly, noting that the words were nearly illegible.

_Chapter Ten! _

"Why?" He closed the book, slowly turning it over in his hands.

_Just do it! Hurry! _

"I don't think so. Not until I get an answer."

_I'll read it to you! _

"And you'll explain everything?"

_Yes! Just hurry! Someone's coming! _

Demi turned to chapter ten. "What does it say?"

_"The Triforce, made by the Goddesses Din, Nayru, and Farore, is supposed to protect Hyrule, filling the land with peace. Or so the legend says. But there is another force, one that is rumored to be almost as powerful as the Goddesses, but much more cruel. This force is claimed to preside over a land called Democres, poisoning the plentiful land and filling it with demons, monsters and souls of the dead. This same force is portrayed as a god to the people of Democres, and they worship it as such. They have a relic that they treat with the same reverence that most hold for the Triforce. They have creatively named it 'The Dark Triforce,' and it is as evil as the Triforce is good. Few non-Democrens know of this evil force, but those who do have often sought to destroy it, and have all, in turn, fallen prey to it." _

When the Dark Triforce had finished reading, Demi closed the book, running his fingers over the gleaming red words of the title. "What does this say?" he whispered.

_"Bloodshed: The History of Evil." _

"And who wrote it?"

_. . . That's not important right now. I'll tell you later. _

Demi sighed, but put the book in his bag. The second he had, the door flew open and Annabelle beckoned to him frantically. She had swapped her green dress for a red one with gold trim. Her green dress was under her arm, and she held her knife in her other hand. "C'mon, Demi! Them rich people are home! We've gotta get outta 'ere!"

Downstairs, Ty had her sword out and was pointing it at a fairly young man and woman, who were cowering by the front door. "Anything I can do?" Demi asked, taking the stairs two at a time.

Ty snorted. _"Them?" _she replied derisively. She poked her sword in their direction. The woman screamed, throwing her arm over her head, and the man threw his arms around her shoulders, shielding her with his body. "I don't think so."

Annabelle looked at the couple and shrugged. Picking up her bag, she shoved past them and out the front door. Demi bent down to them. "Don't be afraid," he said soothingly.

The woman gave him a look that was half-fear, half-exasperation. "You're _stealing_ from us! And _she" --_the woman gestured at Ty, who waved-- "keeps threatening us with her sword!"

"Ah . . . yeah." Demi bit his lip, then glanced at Ty. She was gazing down at the woman's necklace with a hungry expression. Annabelle had poked her head back in the room, and kept sneaking glances at the rich man's golden watch. He raised his eyebrows. Annabelle nodded eagerly, while Ty pretended she hadn't noticed. As he watched, though, she gave an almost imperceptible shrug and the ghost of a smile.

Demi looked at the poor people they were stealing from. The woman looked like she was about to faint, and her hair was falling out of her tidy bun in brown wisps. The man was looking from Annabelle to Ty to Demi, his eyes sharp and intelligent, looking for information. He was also much, much older than Demi, and much, much bigger.

Annabelle shifted her weight, and the man's eyes locked on her. The woman had her eyes closed, and was fanning herself with one hand. Demi reached over and gently took the man by the wrist, trying to undo the latch. The man looked down at their hands, Demi's completely covering the watch, then up at Demi, his brow creasing. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Uh . . ." Demi stole a glance at the others. Ty was expressionless at usual, and Annabelle had her hands over her mouth, giggling silently. "I . . . don't want you to be frightened," he finished, and, using his free hand, patted the man on the shoulder. "We're not going to hurt you." He successfully removed the watch, and slipped it around his wrist. The man hadn't noticed; he was too busy staring at Demi in confusion. Demi turned to the woman, trying to figure out how to take the necklace. She had her eyes open now, and she was clutching her hair, as if he was planning on stealing it. He leaned forward and gave her a hug. "I hope we haven't startled you too much with our presence," he added, hoping he sounded comforting.

_What the hell is up with this latch? _he thought. It wasn't coming undone, and for every second he sat there, his arms around this poor woman, the more her husband looked like he was going to kill him. Finally he got it, and pulled away, hiding it in his fist. "We'll be going now," he finished, standing as fast as he could and hiding his hands behind his back. He should have grabbed a shirt while he was upstairs. That was really stupid.

Slowly the three pirates backed out of the house. Once they were outside, Annabelle stared cracking up. "That was awesome!" she exclaimed, holding out her hand. He dropped the watch into it and handed Ty the necklace. Ty turned to him. "Not bad," she admitted. "Kind of stupid, but funny as hell."

"Hey, at least I got them," he said, putting his hands on his hips. Ty smirked, and Demi realized just how girly that must have looked, and he dropped his arms to his sides immediately, feeling his face grow hot.

_"I _thought it was awesome," Annabelle said, and gave Demi a wink.

BONNGG!

The sound practically knocked them off their feet.

"That was loud!" Annabelle commented.

"Shit," Ty said.

_"What?"_ Demi asked in confusion.

BONNGG!

"What _is_ that?" Demi demanded.

"Um, we should leave," Ty said, completely ignoring Demi.

"This could be a problem," Annabelle agreed, also ignoring Demi.

BONNGG!

"Where is it coming from?" Demi asked, looking around.

"Hey, doesn't it sound like a song?" Annabelle thought aloud, still ignoring Demi.

"Seriously, guys, leaving!" Ty suggested impatiently, ignoring everyone.

BONNGG!

"Yes, if you put it all together, it sounds like a song!" Annabelle exclaimed happily. She conducted with her finger as she spoke. "Bong, bong, bong-bong, bong, bong, bong-bong, bong--"

"SHUT UP!" Ty and Demi said together, at both the bongs and at Annabelle.

"By the way," Ty said to Annabelle, "it's more like bong, bong-bong, bong-bong-bong, bong-bong-bong, bong-bong-bong-bong, bong-bong-bong--"

"Nuh-uh," she retorted, "it goes, bong-bong-bong, bong-bong-bong, bong-bong-BONG bong!"

"Do you _always _do this when you're pirating?" Demi asked dryly.

BONNGG!

"Not always," Annabelle said, offended.

"Yeah," Ty added. "The arguments are usually stupider."

Demi got the feeling that, although she might hate his guts, Ty liked messing with him.

**BONG! **

"All right, all right!" Annabelle shouted at the couple, who were standing next to a huge bell, ringing it over and over. "Sheesh! The guards have heard you, they're coming-"

"WHAT!" Demi shouted. "The _guards? _How long did you know _that!" _

"Weell," Ty drawled, speaking extra-slowly, "probably when I said, 'Hey, let's leave,' and _you_ decided, 'no, let's talk about COMPLETE AND TOTAL CRAP INSTEAD!'"

"Ty," Annabelle said calmly. "Ty, you're freaking out."

"Why, yes, I am. Join me, will you?"

Demi could see five well-armed, muscular, athletic guards trudging up to them. They pointed at Annabelle and Ty, but Demi was blocked from view by a lovely weeping willow tree.

He'd never loved trees quite as much as he did now.

"What do we do?" he hissed.

"Hmm . . ." Ty pondered that for a while. "Hmm . . . hmm, hmm, hmm . . . hmm . . ."

"Take your time," Demi snapped. "It's not like we're in a hurry or anything! It's not like we're about to get arrested by five guys who could freakin' smash us into a PULP!"

"Demi," Ty began. "I have an idea."

"Do you know what a pulp _is_, Ty?" Then he realized what she was talking about. "Wait, what?"

"Annabelle and I will get arrested."

"What?" Annabelle yelped, looking scandalized.

"_Annabelle and I will get arrested," _Ty repeated through clenched teeth. "Demi will take the stuff we stole and run, get to the ship, and stow the stuff away. He'll find Maria and get some orders, and actually _obey them, _and we'll all meet back at the ship. And Demi will NOT be a moron. Right?"

"Right," Demi said shakily.

"Good." She smiled at him for a second, then waved him off toward the back of the house. While the man and woman were babbling to the guards, he followed the tree-garden-thing that formed an L on the left side and back of the house. Apparently rich people liked little pathways under tree-tunnels.

Before that day, he thought it was stupid.

At that moment he could see the appeal.

The couple were only inches away, and he had a single bush between himself and them. They were looking around, trying to figure out where he'd gone. He resisted the urge to poke one of them in the back, and the urge to steal something.

He really was turning into a pirate.

Unfortunately, he was having a much harder time convincing himself that was a bad thing.

* * *

YAH! I'm, like, so excited. I killed myself for this. It involved sweat and blood and AGONY. Only not really. But I worked hard, because the font was messed up. Oh, well . . . after all that hard work, you should review me. Consider it a reward.


	27. A Squadron Of Vampire Gophers

Stupid Spongebob. My friend's brother's watching it as I try to update this. It's distracting. _And_ it's a marathon. And worse, it's _Spongebob._

Jacob: (theme song for Spongebob marathon) "It's the Best . . . Day . . . EVER!"

Me: "Shut up, Jacob!"

Jacob: (gets next to my ear and reads over my shoulder)(shouts) "IT'S THE BEST . . . DAY . . . EVER!!"

Me: (screams)_

* * *

_

_Chapter Seventeen_

"Dead end."

"Dead end."

"Dead end."

About the fiftieth time Zelda announced that they had found yet _another _dead end, the more and more irritated she sounded and the more and more Daphnes wanted to punch her in the face.

Only he'd never actually hit her. He loved her too much to hit her.

But still . . .

"Dead end." Zelda cocked her head to the side, looking at Daphnes in frustration. "Wanna just ditch the kid? She's probably better off, anyway. Not like we care or anything . . ."

"She'll get eaten!"

"She'd still be better off . . . . No? Damn." As they continued walking, she muttered, "I never even liked the stupid brat . . ."

Daphnes stopped abruptly, leveling Zelda with a glare. "I don't care if you like her. I don't care if you want to marry her, or if you're secretly plotting her death. I don't care. We're finding her. Deal with it." He whirled around and continued his way back down the tunnel (that looked suspiciously like every other tunnel they'd been through--it would be ironic if they just kept wandering down the same tunnel for the rest of their sad, short existence). Zelda slowly fell into step beside him, giving him weird glances every few seconds.

"What?" he demanded crossly.

She gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Nothing. It's just . . . You've got backbone." She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting."

Honestly? He didn't care if it was interesting. He was tired, sore, and hungry, and everything was annoying.

"Congratulations," he said, not even giving her a glance and picking up his pace. She kept up with him, smirking slightly in a you're-a-total-idiot-and-I-should-smack-you-but-I-won't-because-I-don't-have-the-energy-because-being-stuck-in-a-tunnel-sucks-and-Saria-sucks-and-my-whole-damn-life-sucks-but-it's-all-good-because-you're-much-more-pissed-off-than-I-am-so-this-whole-freakin'-situation-is-funny-ha-ha sort of way.

His anger was amusing her, that was obvious. Her amusement at his anger was bothering him, which was also amusing to her, which in turn annoyed him, and . . . The conclusion: two people who have next to nothing in common should never be shoved into an underground tunnel together. _Never. _

"Why should _I_ be congratulated?" she asked. _"You're _the one with the sudden backbone. _You're _the one who's not a total and complete pushovery sap. _I _should be congratulating _you." _

"Great."

"I mean, I never thought that the only way you wouldn't be utterly pathetic would be to stick you in a tunnel. You're teaching me new things every day, Daphnes." She was skipping next to him, because bugging him was apparently oh-so-fun.

"Yay," he said dully.

"All right, that's it." Zelda suddenly grabbed his arm and stopped dead, so that Daphnes twirled around on one foot like a demented top to face her. "What is _wrong _with you?" she demanded, putting a hand on her hip. "You're all . . . angry."

"Brilliant observation." He turned back around, but she stomped in front of him again.

"This is getting old," she informed him with a tired sigh.

"Ya think?"

She glared at him. "_Why _are you so . . ."

"Hating of the whole damn universe?" he finished.

She half-smiled. "I guess that works," she agreed.

"Well, the whole damn universe sucks. That's why."

Zelda looked like she was trying to decide between screaming her head off or just letting it go. He hoped she'd just let it go.

Well, his entire life was just one BUNDLE of crap.

Why break the lucky streak?

"You can't just--" She broke off as a strange brown creature appeared out of nowhere and crawled up to her, sniffing her feet.

It was about the size of a gopher, with huge purple eyes and a tail the half size of Zelda. One of the strangest things about it (because it was _clearly_ perfectly normal otherwise, besides scary violet eyes that took up two thirds of its face) was its giant teeth. Only these teeth were pointy. The first thought that popped into his mind when he saw it was _vampire gophers. _

_Vampire gophers? _his exhausted brain asked him. _Vampire gophers?! _

With a squeal that sounded like millions of cats being tortured (not that he knew what that sounded like, but it seemed like a good simile), the little thing leaped at Zelda, its teeth aimed at her neck.

_Yep, _Daphnes said back to his brain. _Vampire gophers. _

Zelda swatted the thing with a giant rock, but it just leapt into her hair. Once up there, it settled down and was perfectly happy.

Unfortunately, Zelda couldn't see it.

"What's it doing?" she asked Daphnes.

"Well, our buddy, the vampire gopher, is currently nestled in your hair, and, if I'm not mistaken, is trying to find the center of your head."

"That's good," Zelda said, relieved. She was about to comment on the "vampire gopher" remark when Daphnes added, "I don't think it's such a good thing."

"What? Why not?"

"Because now that it's found the center of your head, it's preparing to bite you and suck out your blood, brains, and anything else it finds interesting."

A little more than slightly panicked and a little more than slightly pissed at Daphnes, she demanded, "How do you know that?"

"I know everything. Oh, and its teeth are positioned over your head. Turns out there are little hollows in his teeth for blood-and-brain sucking. Bad luck, huh?" He turned and began to walk away.

"You're leaving me?!" she shouted behind him.

"Only if you don't follow."

"Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!" she screamed, running after him. The vampire gopher made an irritated noise, and she slapped at it. It bit her, and she screamed again, more in anger and pain than fear.

"Don't kill it," Daphnes protested. "It's just hungry." His voice cracked slightly on the word 'hungry,' and there was an even slighter hesitation before it, but with Daphnes, that was enough.

She plucked the gopher off her head, setting it on the ground. It glared up at her balefully, then leapt onto Daphnes' head, where it lay, not eating him, sucking out his brains, or doing anything besides sitting there.

"But . . . but . . . it's not eating you!"

"Nope." Daphnes was perfectly calm.

Zelda wasn't. "So it wasn't eating me?!"

"Nope."

"Then . . . why . . . I hate you!"

"Thanks."

"You're not welcome."

"Okay."

Zelda crossed her arms and followed him, stepping on his heels. Daphnes stopped, waited for her to catch up, then walked next to her, where she couldn't do him any harm besides give him death glares. Daphnes was actually smiling, which made Zelda even angrier. Strange how their attitudes had completely changed.

"That wasn't funny," she muttered resentfully, deciding that as long as he agreed that it was a mean thing to do she'd forgive him. Maybe.

_"I_ thought it was." He still had that stupid smile on his face. He was also not groveling. He was supposed to be groveling. This was completely illogical, but she wasn't in a very logical mood.

"Yes, but you suck."

"Uh-huh."

Apparently that was as close to an apology as she was going to get, so she sighed, and forgave him. After tripping him. Several times.

"You know what, Zel?" Daphnes began. "We have no clue where we're going."

"Thank you!" She threw her arms up in the air. "If only you'd admitted that before, _then _we could have found Saria and brought her back!"

"I thought you didn't like her."

"_WHY _do you have to remember every little thing!"

Daphnes completely ignored her, and turned his attention to the gopher sitting on his head. He gently picked it up and held it. "This thing knew how to find us," he said smugly. "It must know where to find Saria."

He turned the gopher (even she was thinking of it as the vampire gopher) so that they were face to teeth. "Can you help us find someone?" he asked, slowly and clearly.

The gopher squealed again, but this seemed like more of a happy squeal. Whatever that was.

"Good. There's a wolf-like-thing, and a girl. Do you know where they are?" he continued.

Squeal. Squeal-squeak.

"All right. If I let go of you now, will you lead us to them?"

"Daphnes, you realize you're talking to a gopher, right?" Zelda asked.

The gopher wormed itself out of Daphnes' hands and landed on the ground with a plop. Nails scrabbling furiously, it scurried over to the dirt wall and stuck its long teeth into it, instantly making a little hollow. Dig, dig, digdigdigdigdig . . . in a second it was gone.

Zelda picked an imaginary piece of lint of her dress and studied her nails. Once she was done, she looked up and asked, "Oh, yeah. We should follow it." She climbed into the tunnel the gopher had just made. She was being annoying on purpose, of course, to get back at Daphnes for the whole vampire-brain-sucking-gopher thing.

Well, _he _thought it was funny.

The tunnel must have been ten million miles long; it felt like several hours later before they climbed out into a hollowed-out cavern. Sitting in the center of the room was Saria, whose leg had stopped bleeding; her eyes, though, were wide and frightened.

"I don't know, okay?" she said to the wolf, who was pacing around the perimeter of the cave.

Daphnes gestured with his hands, and mouthed, _Don't tell him where we are!_

Saria, apparently, couldn't read lips, because she pointed a finger at Daphnes and Zelda. "Ask them; they know more than I do."

The wolf's red eyes focused on them and they froze. The little vampire gopher squealed and leapt up into Saria's hair, making a nest.

"SO?" the wolf boomed. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

Zelda snorted. "Rescuing Saria--what else?"

"NO! IN MY TUNNELS, IN MY FOREST! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"Looking for the Triforce--_not _that it's any of your business."

The wolf glared at her--as much as wolves can glare, that is. "NONE OF MY BUSINESS? YOU TRAIPSE INTO MY FOREST, UPSETTING MY CREATURES AND TRYING TO STEAL MY PROPERTY, AND YOU DON'T THINK THAT'S ANY OF MY BUSINESS?!"

_Let it go, Zel, _Daphnes thought pleadingly, waving his arms around like a maniac.

She shrugged, and closed her mouth. The wolf turned on Daphnes instead.

"WHY ARE YOU SEARCHING FOR MY PROPERTY!"

"Uh . . . we want to stop a war . . . and we need to borrow it to do that." Despite the fact that a giant wolf-thing was staring him down hungrily, he felt suddenly calmer, his mind clearer. He'd made speeches like this--well, not exactly like this--a thousand times before, in front of more people. This was just another ugly-faced opponent. "We wouldn't hurt it at all, and we'd return it once we were done."

The wolf surveyed him, then turned to the gopher. The wolf was obviously trying to keep his voice down, but he didn't have quite the talent at that, and they could hear every word. "DO YOU TRUST HIM?"

The gopher chattered excitedly from its perch on top of Saria's head.

"AND YOU'RE SURE?"

Chatter, chatter. Squeal.

"HMM . . . YES, I SENSE THAT AS WELL."

Saria muttered something to the wolf, and it nodded thoughtfully.

What they were sensing, Daphnes had no clue. Hopefully it was good.

Maybe they were sensing that Daphnes and Zelda should take Saria and leave. And have a nice, big, fat pineapple. Goddess, he wanted a pineapple. And some chicken. Or maybe cheese. Or cheese _and _chicken. Not to mention some cake. Or apple pie? And some fresh strawberries. He was so hungry . . . and in need of a shower. All he wanted was some sleep, some food, and a shower. He glanced at Zelda. She looked exactly how he felt, cross and exhausted . . . and unshowered. He really, very much wanted a shower . . .

What were they talking about again? Oh, right.

"TWO-LEGGED ONE!" The wolf's extremely loud voice shook him out of his reverie (which involved a conga line of peanuts--unshelled--dancing into his mouth).

"Uh, which one of us?" he asked weakly.

"THE ONE WITH TWO LEGS."

"Yeah, great," Zelda muttered. "That really narrows it down--to all three of us."

"THE MALE IS THE ONE EVERYONE ADDRESSES THEMSELVES TO. THE MALE, OBVIOUSLY, IS WHOM I AM SPEAKING WITH." Turning to Daphnes as though this mini-tirade made perfect sense, he added, "THE LARGE-TOOTHED ONE--"

"Not _me?!" _Saria asked incredulously.

"--SPEAKS VERY HIGHLY OF YOU, STATING THAT YOU HAVE A 'SENSE' OF SINCERITY. THIS IS WHY I SHALL LET YOU PASS."

"Really? Awesome!" He slung an arm around Saria's waist and helped her to her feet.

"WAIT!"

"What?"

"WAIT, I SAY! I HAVE GIVEN YOU, AND ONLY YOU, PERMISSION TO PASS. THE OTHERS HAVE YET TO SHOW THEIR TRUSTWORTHINESS."

"But . . . Saria's the Something of the Forest!"

"Sage," she added helpfully.

"Yeah! She has a special connection with the forest, keeping it . . . nice, and . . . happy."

The wolf stuck its face in Saria's, who, to her credit, stared right back. Finally the wolf backed off. "THE YOUNG ONE IS CLEAN. SHE MAY PASS."

Zelda was looking very pale. However, remembering her less-than-sympathetic behavior toward him lately, he half-seriously considered leaving her there. But still. He sighed, and turned back to the wolf. "Listen, Zelda can be really, really, _really _rude--Farore, can she piss people off when she wants to--and she's stupidly sarcastic and dishonorable and . . . _right_. Anyway, she's also cool and smart and fun and stuff. Not to mention the fact that she's annoying as hell. Is that someone you want to spend too much time with? Besides, she's soon going to be the Queen of Hyrule, and that's not a lady you want to annoy."

"WHY NOT?" At least he wasn't trying to eat them.

"She could, once she's in a position of power, keep her mouth shut or, even better, use her 'queenliness' to help the forest. _Or . . ." _He paused for drama, deciding that a little more drama couldn't upset the freakin' soap opera his life had become lately. "If you refuse to give her to us, her heartbroken fiancé might decide that, alas, his life is worthless, and he'd try to find a way to give his pathetic existence some worth. And what is more noble than avenging his wife's death? Surely you, powerful though you might be, cannot withstand the hundreds of men more than willing to serve their king." Hopefully he didn't know that Hyrule in itself wasn't the most populated place around--although easily the best. Ryia was all desert, then a heavily populated city and some beach down to the water. Democres, located at the bottom of their continent . . . well, no one really knew what was down there. They had an agreement: Stay away from us, we'll stay away from you, and it was agreement that everyone was all too happy to follow. Democrens hated light, and apparently they were very creepy, according to the few reports they'd had. It was mostly some sort of wasteland or marsh or something. The wolf didn't really need to know that.

The wolf glared at Daphnes, and for a moment, Daphnes thought it was going to lunge at him and eat him. Then it said, "YOU ARE AN IDIOT, AREN'T YOU?"

"Well . . . um, uh, I wouldn't say--"

"YOU DARE TO BLACKMAIL ME, AND INSIST THAT YOU ARE NOT AN IDIOT?!"

Unsure of how to respond, Daphnes repeated, "Well . . . um, uh, I wouldn't say--"

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" It growled, and Daphnes grabbed Zelda's arm and began dragging her and Saria back the way they'd come. The gopher, still making that annoying chattering sound, led the way out. "WAIT . . ." The wolf paused, trying to decide if Zelda and Saria could come with Daphnes. Whatever he chose, Daphnes didn't see as they disappeared into a tunnel.

Around and around turn after turn, the gopher finally stopped. There, up ahead, looking gloriously like a way out, was the way out.

In his sleep-deprived mind, a sudden chorus of angels lifted into the air and sang, "HALLELUJAH!"

He eagerly tightened his hold on Saria and sped up. He felt somewhat like he was running in slow-motion, and seeing as he was dragging along an injured person, he wasn't that far off. Inch by inch they made their way to the exit, with the angels singing every step of the way.

"HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HA-LE-LU-JAH!"

Sudden footsteps behind them made them turn. There, growing closer and angrier every second, was the wolf.

"Hallelujah?" The angels sat down, looking disheartened.

"Run!" Daphnes ordered, and they hobbled toward the exit. When they were only a few feet away, there was a rumble, and a shower of really heavy rocks fell, blocking the exit.

The angels, given new inspiration, rose back up into the air and sang, just as sweetly as before, "YOU SUCK!"

The wolf lunged at Zelda, and Daphnes batted it away with his sword. He didn't draw blood, but oh well.

"YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU REALLY, REALLY DO SUCK!"

"Stupid angels," Daphnes muttered, swinging his sword around, missing more than hitting, but the few spots of blood on the wolf's head and neck gave him hope. Unfortunately, it just made the wolf mad.

"DAPHNES!" Zelda screamed, throwing rocks at the wolf's head. "Have you EVER used a sword in your LIFE?"

"Once," he admitted, ducking under the wolf's paw. "But it was against my Uncle Ferdinand, and he's not very young. Or thin. And the sword was more like a pointy stick than anything else. Like this, actually." He held up the sword, and was hit in the face by the wolf's paw and slamming back into a wall.

He struggled to keep from blacking out, and saw, among the angels, one of the announcers in Hyrule Market Town that gave prizes to random citizens. He was smiling his plastic smile and saying to Daphnes, "Young King, congratulations! You no longer really suck. You have reached a brand-new level of sucking! We call it . . ." He gestured to the angels, who leapt into the air and sang, opera-esque, "SUPREME _ULTIMATE _SUCKAGE!"

He winced at the painfully high note on "ultimate," and it was enough to snap him out of his half-sleep just in time to see Zelda, now holding his sword, trying to fight the wolf. Saria had taken Zelda's place in randomly throwing rocks at it.

Daphnes had an idea. It was either really brave, or really stupid.

He jumped onto the wolf's back and wrapped his legs around its abdomen, hugging it around the neck. The wolf bucked and thrashed and forgot all about Zelda and Saria in its attempt to throw him.

Suddenly Daphnes wasn't sitting on the wolf's back. He was hanging upside down, his arms and legs still wrapped around the wolf, having slid sideways and down. The wolf glared hungrily down at him. "GET OFF," it demanded, sounding much happier than it had before.

Yeah. This idea was really stupid.

But there wasn't much else he could do.

"No," he said, surprisingly calmly.

A brown blur sped past his face, rushing toward the blocked-off exit. Then fifty brown blurs sped past his face, leaving him confused and with a lot of fur in his mouth. They all stopped suddenly, in a line facing him. He realized that it was a squadron . . . of vampire gophers.

They made a sort of salute with their teeth, then began to dig though the rocks. The message was clear: We'll give you a way out. Just stay alive long enough to leave.

The wolf's legs buckled, and Daphnes had to scramble out of the way as it fell. Zelda stood over it, holding the sword hilt down. She tossed it to Daphnes and went back over to Saria.

"Is it dead?" Saria whispered, her face white as paper.

"Dunno," Zelda replied carelessly.

"Ohh, we're in so much trouble," Saria added, clutching the neckline of her shirt. "We're not supposed to hurt anything. The great Deku Tree will be _soo_ mad."

"How will he know?"

"The trees."

Zelda gestured around as she helped Saria to her feet. "There _are_ no trees."

Saria pointed out the newly dug entrance. The trees were, in fact, leaning closer to them, as though looking for gossip. "I don't know if they heard or not, but they'll find out soon."

Daphnes picked her up easily. "So let's go," he said, and they gratefully left the dark cave.

Zelda leaned forward against a low-hanging tree branch and closed her eyes. "I don't even want to know how far we are from the Triforce now," she said.

Saria looked around thoughtfully as Daphnes set her down then collapsed on a rock. "I'd say we're about . . . five feet away, give or take a few inches."

Zelda's head jerked up, and she stared at Saria in shock. Daphnes just sat there, a motionless lump. Zelda and Saria watched him for a while. Slowly Daphnes lifted his head and looked blearily at them. "Wha?" he asked sleepily. His eyes widened as he registered what Saria had said. "Oh . . . yeah. Cool." With that, he slumped back down.

Zelda turned to Saria. "How do you know?" she demanded.

She just rolled her eyes, patting her vivid green hair into place. "I've only been here practically every day of my life," she said sarcastically. "I _think _I might recognize it."

"Well, aren't you just too sweet," Zelda muttered, nudging Daphnes awake. He groaned, but dragged himself over to them.

"Sleep," he sighed.

"Nuh-uh." Saria put her hands on her hips. "Not until we find the Triforce."

"Yeah, let's get a move on," Zelda agreed, smiling faintly. "Come on, you can't be _that_ tired," she laughed as he collapsed, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Zelda," Daphnes complained, "I'm so tired I hallucinated opera-singing angels and Hylian talk show hosts telling me how much I suck. I'm unstable. I'm delusional. Let me sleep."

"Nope."

Daphnes made incoherent noise.

"Saria says the Triforce is here."

"I know that! That's why we came to the damn Lost Woods!"

"No. Right here."

"What!?" Daphnes got up and started to go around in circles. "Where!? I don't see it?!"

Saria pulled him over to a tree. "_Here." _

Daphnes stared at the tree for a long time. "Saria?" he finally said.

"Yeah?"

"That's a tree."

"So?"

"The Triforce is a tree?"

"No, of course not."

"But the Triforce is right here?" He tapped the tree.

"Yes."

"But this is a tree."

"Obviously."

"But if the Triforce is here, and the tree is here . . ."

"Yeah . . . ?" Saria prompted.

"Then the Triforce is a tree."

_"No!" _

Zelda sighed, and stomped over to them. "Okay, let's all _try_ to act sane." She turned to Saria. "You, shh." She turned back to Daphnes. "Daphnes, the Triforce is in the tree."

His expression cleared, and he smiled. "So let's chop down the tree."

Saria clapped her hand over her mouth, horrified. "You can't kill a tree! It's . . . unthinkable!"

Zelda smirked. "That's fine then. Daphnes doesn't think."

"I think more than you do!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Prove it!"

"Fine! What about when you insulted the nobles--"

"They deserved it!"

"--or when you ran away from home without bothering to figure out where you were going . . ."

"What else was I supposed to do?"

"Well, for starters, you could have brought a map, or food, or a teensy tiny inkling of a plan . . ."

"I don't _do _plans."

"My point exactly!"

Saria interrupted before they could veer even more off course than they had already. "Hello?! The Triforce?" Ignoring their responses, she pressed her palm against the tree, thinking. _Can you let us in? _She asked.

_We cannot. _

_Please? _

_We cannot. _

_Why-- _

_We cannot. _

Saria sighed. Trees really weren't very good conversationalists, and they were stubborn as anything. She was actually starting to consider cutting the damn thing down when an acorn hit her in the head, knocking her to the ground. "OW! . . . What?" she complained, rubbing her head.

Looking up, she met a pair of big round eyes staring down at her. She gave a yelp and stepped back. Staring down at her was one of the vampire gophers!! She clapped her hands together in excitement. "Can you help us!?"

The gopher cocked its head to the side.

"We need to get inside the tree."

"What are you talking to!?" Zelda demanded. "Is that a vampire gopher?! It can't possibly understand what you're saying! Its brain is to small to comprehend words!"

The gopher scrambled down the trunk and went around the tree. "It wants us to follow." Zelda rolled her eyes, but grabbed Daphnes' arm and followed Saria around the tree. The gopher disappeared into a hole under the tree. "Look, a door!"

"If you could call it that. I don't think we can even fit though it."

"Sure you can! Just get on your stomach and crawl." She disappeared.

Zelda grumbled as she went on her hands and knees. "Daphnes!"

"Huh? What?"

"Wake up. We're almost to the Triforce."

"Awesome!"

"Yeah," Zelda agreed, "except that we have to climb through a dirt-and-earthworm-filled tunnel to get there."

"So? I've done worse." He kneeled down next to her and winked. "Don't tell me you're squeamish . . ."

"No! I just don't like gophers . . . and worms." Still, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and crawled in before him. "Ack!"

"What?" Daphnes called down.

"There's a lot of roots just sitting there . . . waiting to leave an indent on your skull."

Daphnes rolled his eyes and followed her. Every inch of the tunnel was either covered in roots or worms. Ahead, he could hear Zelda muttering, "Eew, eew, eew, eew, OW! Eew . . ."

Suddenly someone screamed. He scrambled forward blindly, fumbling for a foot, a hand, something to latch onto. "What--" he began, then soon discovered the source of the screaming.

Whoever had created this tunnel had decided it would be _fun _to add a sudden, random drop into black oblivion and then have a nice cushiony landing on a giant pile of unknown black crap ten feet below.

Daphnes, being totally unaware of this _fun _aspect, fell--shouting oaths the whole way down--and landed on his leg, which sunk three feet into the black crap and made him lose his balance. He grabbed a hanging root and started to twist around, but fell over mid-twirl, landing, and then spinning, on his face.

Has anyone noticed this type of thing happened to Daphnes a lot?

Must have been a curse cast by the Goddesses. They liked to do that sort of thing.

Correction: That sort of _fun _thing.

Daphnes thought about this. "All things considered," he said to no one in particular, climbing out of the black crap and hoping he was imagining the foul taste in his mouth, "I should get a break soon. I mean, there's only so much really bad luck someone can take before they snap" And--due to the uncontrollable tick in his eye, the strange hallucinations he'd been having, and the fact that he was talking to himself--he was about to snap. He decided that since Zelda and Saria were Din knew where, and he had a while stuck in this black tunnel, he might as well say a prayer. "Dear Controlling Forces of the Universe." Okay, he believed in the Goddesses and all, but he was pretty much open-minded about who he was talking to. "Will you _please _leave me alone? I don't know what I've done--unless it was that time when I played Frisbee with Rauru's book--but seriously! Does that count for the--" His mental angels swirled around the tunnel, which was at least twice as big as the one he'd fallen from, and sang, "Supreme ULTIMATE Suckage!"

At that precise second, the creator of the tunnel thought of another _fun _surprise: bouncy mushrooms. These might be harmless to most people, but Daphnes is clearly not most people. The mushrooms rose out of the same unknown black crap, and the walls were lined with a sludgy liquified crap. So Daphnes stepped onto one of the mushrooms and catapulted into the air, bashing his head on the tunnel roof. He slid down the sludgy wall onto another mushroom, which sent him headlong into the opposite wall, filling his face with more black crap. Finally he reached a mushroom-free zone and continued walking as though he wasn't bruised up and covered in sludge.

"My point exactly!" Daphnes continued his letter, nodding his head and wondering if he was crazy. "The extreme and total suckiness that my life has been lately. So, if you could just give me a little break, that would be great. I'll never throw books again. I'll be a perfect king. I might even stop harassing the nobles. Okay?" He stopped, expecting some sort of divine music or something, but the only sound were the angels, who were imitating crickets. "Uh . . . thanks."

"Daphnes?" Zelda's voice was faint, and Daphnes realized he'd stopped walking. He sprinted forward, eager to get out of the tunnel.

Now, everyone's decided this tunnel creator is cruel and sadistic (or if you haven't, you're a moron). Well, Daphnes was in for the third and final _fun _element of the cave. This brilliant surprise was--

THWONK. Daphnes ran into a wall, quite possibly breaking his nose and giving him his (hopefully) last taste of black crap (what _was _it, anyway?).

--a dead end.

The tunnel maker was thoroughly amused at this, and if he could have seen Daphnes, he would have been overjoyed. He liked tormenting people.

Daphnes tentatively reached forward, pressing his fingers against the dirt and rocks. He slid one hand to the left, until he found the corner and searched that wall for a good ten feet, then turned and did the same to the other wall.

Nothing. Daphnes swore and kicked the wall and, for good measure, stomped on the floor.

It was clearly part of the grand tunnel creator's plan that the precise point where Daphnes had stomped on was a concealed booby trap. He fell down several feet before landing on a nice pile of dirt.

Unfortunately, Zelda was sitting on said pile of dirt.

"OW! Daphnes?" Zelda spluttered, shoving him off her. "You made it!"

Saria was a few feet away, holding a vampire gopher to her chest and murmuring to it.

"Nggnh galorph dwq," Daphnes mumbled, realizing that "nggnh," "galorph," and "dwq" were not actual words that normal people used and not caring.

Zelda raised her eyebrows. "O-kay." She turned to Saria. "What does the gopher say?" she asked pleasantly.

Strange how easily that girl had adjusted to the bizarre.

Saria looked up. "He knows where to go from here, and is ready whenever we are." She looked at them questioningly.

Daphnes really, _really _wanted to say something along the lines of "Hell, no!" but knew that wouldn't go over well. On the other hand, he wasn't sure how much more _fun _he could take before either committing suicide or spontaneously combusting.

Zelda stood. "Sure, no problem." She looked down at Daphnes, who was reluctantly climbing to his feet. "How did you find your way down here, anyway?"

"Bad luck."

_"We_ found the gopher and it showed us the way. We didn't seem to have quite the fun or adventure you did, though." Now that he thought about it, Saria and Zelda looked perfectly clean and cheerful, while he . . . didn't.

"Yeah. Fun. Adventure. Next time, you're welcome to all the adventure."

Saria tugged on their arms as the gopher disappeared from sight. "Come _on_!"

Daphnes wasn't sure what he felt about the gophers. He either really liked them or really hated them. They usually got him and the others out of trouble, which was very good, but they also showed up at times when he was in a bad mood, and they were a sort of omen for things Daphnes did not want to do. It was like a sign: "Come, see how close you can come to death, serious injury, or insanity without any of that actually happening while we laugh at you and occasionally lend a hand when you look like you're gonna die!!"

Goody.

To his credit, he only came close to being maimed or killed three times. To Zelda and Saria's credit, they didn't get close to being maimed or killed at all. And, of course, the gopher was peachy keen the whole time.

Finally it stopped at a dead end, hopping up and down and squealing and altogether looking quite pleased with itself. And Daphnes was positive it kept shooting him triumphant smirks.

He wanted to throttle it. He would be overjoyed to kill it, put it out of its smirky vampirey misery.

"Dead end," Zelda announced less-than-happily, looking like she would be just as eager to cheerfully beat the gopher to death.

Saria knelt down and kissed the gopher's nose. "Thank you!" she chirped, and led Zelda and Daphnes through a little hole in the ceiling that was, weirdly enough, filled with golden light.

Inside of the tree was pretty ordinary, if you find hollow tree guts ordinary. Just a wood circle, about the size of his bedroom. It continued up into blackness, with some branches crisscrossing each other higher up. Daphnes barely noticed any of this once he noticed the source of the golden light.

The Triforce sat, glimmering on a wood pedestal, about the size of a cucco. It was gold at first glance, but when he looked closer, he saw it was red and green and blue as well, all shimmering and shining.

"Wow," Zelda breathed.

"Awesome," Saria added softly.

Daphnes didn't say anything, mesmerized by it. That was it. That was their sacred relic, proof that the Goddesses existed. And it could quite possibly keep Hyrule from spiraling into self-destruction.

He stepped forward.

* * *

YAY! Now, if you could just press the button (that is BLUE, not PURPLE, and is named BOB, not JOE) that sends reviews, then I will be just as peachy keen as the vampire gopher.


	28. Gerudo

All right, so this one's butt long. So what? The next's one really short. So BEAR WITH IT.

* * *

_Chapter Eighteen_

Krysu saw, out of the corner of her eye, that Nabooru was having about as much success as she had. The girl wasn't really anything special, but the boy was amazing. Although "nothing special" with Sheikah doesn't exactly mean the same thing it does with Hylians.

She stumbled slightly, lost her footing for a second and barely caught herself, blocking the Sheikan girl's sword an inch in front of her face.

Their swords were locked. Suddenly, with a malicious grin, the girl shoved down and to the side, then forward, with her blade. Krysu gasped in surprise as she nearly fell to her knees and her sword arm was forced behind her. (Okay, people who cannot picture it, go like this: put your index fingers (hopefully you have two) together like an X. Take the one that's closest to you and force the other one downward, then away from you, then backward. If done correctly, a shooting pain should pulse through your fingers). Krysu tried to stifle a cry of pain, but a soft groan escaped. Maybe it was more like a scream. A small scream. A mini-scream, if you will.

Nabooru's head snapped up, and she focused her gaze on Krysu, who managed to whisper, "No!" desperately before the boy attacked.

Nabooru drew her legs up to her chest and kicked out, slamming her feet into his chest and forcing him to stumble back. She leapt to her feet, and Krysu tripped the Sheikah boy as he passed. Krysu wrenched herself free of the girl's grip, and turned to Nabooru.

"You know, this whole 'information gathering' thing isn't exactly working."

"I know," she grumbled.

"You--" the girl gasped, but before she could finish, a thin, rupee-sized sheet of green glass sliced through the air into her throat. She clutched at it, and blood gushed through her fingers. The boy looked up too, but barely choked out a strangled, "Melissa!" as another glass sliver neatly decapitated him.

Krysu recognized the pieces of glass. They were from the bottle she'd found. She'd given them to Ganondorf.

"No way," Nabooru said, twisting around to see a figure disappearing into the darkness.

"So," Krysu murmured to herself, "they were useful after all."

_"Kry_su!" Nabooru hissed in her painfully familiar way, and she took her by the arm and pulled her into the Fortress. "We _need_ to find Ganondorf."

"Yeah," she replied dully, noting the panic in her ex-best-friend's voice and remembering how Nabooru had practically killed herself trying to save her, and how for about three seconds they'd been friends again, and even how Nabooru had begun to seem less annoyingly confident and less rude and mean and everything Krysu had hated, all too late. And, just like that, the wall was back up. "Let's go."

They ducked into a shadow and disappeared into the Fortress, following Ganondorf's footsteps.

* * *

He knew who it was the second the hand was on his shoulder. "Stop it," he said tiredly. He was sick of her morals and her rules. He was right, and he knew it. She'd just have to deal. 

"But Ganondorf--"

"Mom." He grabbed her wrist and shoved her away from him. "Stop."

She just stared at him, her eyes big and vulnerable. He slammed the door behind him as he made his way down the hall, toward voices. He heard a muffled scream and smiled. Krysu or Nabooru's work, definitely. They were the most brutal warriors he had, and finally he could see why.

He closed in on a wandering Hylian, who pocketed a glass pendant, searching for the more precious treasures they had hidden.

Ganondorf drew his sword with a loud _clang. _The Hylian whirled around, his hands rising to protect his face, forgetting about his dagger altogether. Not that it would have made much difference.

_Phwit. _A slight whoosh of air, a flick of his wrist, and the man was dead on the ground. A few feet away, his head smacked against the wall. It was almost too effortless. It wasn't _fun. _And all of a sudden he needed it to be fun.

He picked up the head, carelessly carved out some of the insides and the eyes, and stuck it up on a lantern. The light shone through the mouth, eyes, and nostrils. It made him laugh, so he picked up the Hylian's limp body and slung it over a simple wooden table, arranging the arms so that it looked like it was reaching for its head. He chuckled darkly, bitterly, turning away from the grotesque art display. He wanted to laugh and cry and throw up and hit something, all at once.

They thought he was savage? He'd show them savage.

"OY! 'Enry! Wha's takin' so long, eh?"

Ganondorf whirled around, blocking "Henry" from view, although why he was protecting these Hylians was unknown to him.

"Eh?" this next drunken man stopped in his tracks, staring up at Ganondorf (who had gotten almost too tall for the corridor and as bulked-up as his black horse, which was saying a _lot). _"Who're you?"

"I hope they're not all as drunk as you are," Ganondorf informed him. "Or 'Henry.'" He stepped aside, allowed the Hylian about five seconds to gape in horror, to fill his eyes with this spectacle, to realize what the Gerudo were capable of--what _Ganondorf _was capable of. Just as he opened his mouth to shout a warning, Ganondorf shoved his scimitar forward, and sliced a gaping hole from the base of the man's neck to the waistband of his pants.

Hearing the thud, Aveni stuck her head out of the door. Her eyes narrowed in disapproval. "I hope you've learned a lesson, technique, _something _due to all this reckless violence," she scolded.

Ganondorf nodded, surprising himself by his defiance. Nabooru often told him that he was too soft, and let too many people, including herself, walk over him at times. "Yes, I did," he replied easily. "I've learned that Hylians are weak, selfish, pampered, unprepared creatures the world is better off without. And they have really ugly pants."

Aveni scowled at him and shut herself into the room again. He didn't bother to worry about her.

He slowly led himself to the main area, the largest part of the Fortress, where'd he'd seen most of the Hylians. His heart was pumping like it did after a hard training session with Nabooru--she'd kept to her promise, but her "strict training sessions" weren't very strict--and his blood was rushing in his ears, growing steadily louder and blocking out other sounds.

Ganondorf silently entered the cafeteria, keeping close to the walls. The Hylians didn't notice as they tended to wounded. He assumed they were Hylians, because who would help an enemy? He saw that several Gerudo were bandaged and sitting up, and he felt a thrill of pride at the Gerudo loyalty--which was quickly squashed as he made a mental note to scold whoever it was for not reporting to him immediately for instructions. He _was _the King, wasn't he? People usually _did _report to their King, right? Probably even the dim-witted Hylians reported to their equally moronic King.

At the mention of their name, his hatred for the Hylians intensified painfully. He zeroed in on one of them, hands clenched on the scimitar eagerly. Even his sword wanted revenge. He was pumped. He was ready. He was excited. This was his chance.

_This is my chance? _His inner voice chastised him. _This is my _chance? _What is your chance? To slaughter twenty-plus Hylians? To start the largest war in Din knows how long? Or just to unleash years of hatred and barely contained violence, to get revenge on these people for what others of this same race, nameless people of nameless faces of nameless times? What did they do? Why do you hate them, for what their ancestors did? _

Angrily Ganondorf shoved these thoughts out of his head. That was all wrong. That was a twisted point of view. It didn't make sense. Not to him. His senses were all hyper-alert. He could see everything, hear everything, _smell _everything. He could smell the blood that covered the floor, he could smell the anxiety the Hylians still felt as they searched for the rogue Gerudo.

Slowly he crept up behind a Hylian, feeling his heartbeat speed up in anticipation.

_Slam! _The Hylian went flying and landed on top of the guard post, impaled on one of the spikes that adorned the top of the wall. Exactly where Ganondorf had aimed him.

The others turned around, trying to find out who had attacked the soldier. Ganondorf raised his sword nonchalantly, and their eyes focused on him, varying degrees of hate in their expressions. He wanted all of them to attack him at once, so that he could show them what he was capable of.

They all lunged at him, shouting "Huzzah!" over and over again.

Time slowed down and sped up. Things became blurry and clearer than ever. He was trapped in between senses, and he seemed to have extra senses he didn't fully understand. He could feel heat from each Hylian, smell blood, taste their fear, and hear their hearts pounding. It was almost painful, but he blocked all these things out and just reacted. Block this. Dodge that. Lunge, pull back, stab, jerk upward and into the air. He had split-second reactions, doing everything perfectly. He was in a fog and able to see perfectly. He was different, stronger than he'd imagined he could be.

He was _ready _for the war. He'd get an army and blow those damn Hylians and their Sheikan slaves away, and prove to everyone that the Gerudo weren't weak.

He slammed his sword into three Hylians at once, barely feeling any soreness in his muscles. He ducked underneath another blade and ran back the way he'd come. Every one of the soldiers followed him, either not suspecting a trap or not caring.

He needed something _huge. _He wanted them all dead, one burst of power, strong enough to destroy them all. Complete and total control over these people's pitiful lives. He stepped outside for a split second, having lost the Hylians. He needed them to find him.

A few feet away, two girls were fighting a boy and girl. He noticed that the boy and girl had pointy ears, and in hindsight saw that they had red eyes. But, in that moment, he saw the ears and grabbed the first thing his hand touched in his pocket.

Glass slivers, shining bright in the moonlight, labels still on them. He ran his finger over the sharp edge, drawing blood. Staring at it for a moment, he pondered the pure simpleness of weapons. A little talent, and someone was dead. He smiled, and flicked his wrist. It sliced straight into the girl's voice throat, sending her reeling backward. One more flick, and the boy was down. Ganondorf stepped backward, and turned to go inside.

His hands tingled. He looked down at them, remembering when he'd studied magic with Koume and Kotake. He'd learned a lot, but not enough for what he'd planned. He didn't even know the right words . . .

Suddenly they were there, along with a strength he had never had, not even that night. He held onto it, kept it beneath the surface. He just needed them to get close enough for him to use it.

One of the girls whirled around, and a familiar voice said, "Ganondorf--" but he was gone, his footsteps ringing in his ears.

There were so many voices echoing in his head. The voices of the Hylians as they followed his trail grew louder, drowning out the sounds of Nabooru and Aveni and himself. They were only a few corridors away; two minutes at best.

_Bam! _Nabooru and Krysu both whirled around the corner, and he recognized them as the girls he'd saved.

_Bam! _Aveni slammed out of the room, and stood in front of Ganondorf, her hands on her hips and her wiry hair standing on end. He realized that he was back where he'd started.

_Bam! _The Hylians all entered from the other end of the corridor. When they saw Ganondorf standing nose to nose with Aveni--both of whom were very intimidating people--and Nabooru and Krysu flanking him with their swords drawn, they froze. Four angry, armed Gerudo standing in a small hallway with a dead Hylian lantern next to them was quite a sight to behold. Recovering from their shock, they started screaming and doing the whole sword-raising thing and the hurrahing thing, and Ganondorf grew very, very annoyed with them all.

"There are less of them," Nabooru said softly.

"Duh. I killed a lot of them," Ganondorf replied impatiently.

"How many did you kill!?" she asked in shock.

Ganondorf didn't answer.

"Not that many," Krysu answered. "There's no way he could have killed that many. No way."

He realized that Krysu was right, but he didn't care. There were enough of them. Krysu and Aveni had moved behind him, looking the way normal guards should. Nabooru was right in front of him protectively, her scimitar a whirling streak of silver as she swung it in front of them.

The Hylians had stopped, looking from one Gerudo to another worriedly. They were obviously wondering why they weren't dead yet. Nabooru leaned forward slightly, her scimitar still pointed toward them, and the Hylians rushed forward in a panicked attack.

Ganondorf grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her so that she was behind him. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. He put one foot on her stomach gently, deciding that was probably a safe place for her. Then he did this weird looking punch-forward-with-one-arm-and-an-open-hand thing that looked really stupid for a about half a second until a big ball-o'-purple-crackly-electricy-roasty-toasty-death blasted from his hand and filled the corridor. He shouted the words he'd heard before, feeling the same power course through him.

_"Greu di ductiiu, eoh yanya noku, kalahna!"_

What the hell did that mean? He had no clue. It was some sort of ancient Gerudo, or Hylian. He really didn't care. It was a spell and it was awesome.

Ganondorf took Aveni and Krysu by the hands and yanked them to the ground, forgetting Nabooru was under his foot. She cried out, and shoved his foot off her. He stumbled backward, and Krysu's hand was ripped from his. He reached out blindly, and felt her arm. He shoved her toward Aveni and wrapped his arm around Nabooru's waist, pulling her to him. A tornado-esque wind roared all around where they knelt, taking Nabooru's long hair (still not tied up) and whipping it all around them. A wave of blistering heat, then freezing cold, then sudden electricity, making the air crackle and hard to breathe. The wind whipped at them, and the heat was agonizing, but he held on to Nabooru and kept his hand out. It was shaking, and blast after blast shook the corridor.

_Stop it! _A voice, familiar and squawking, commanded. _You'll kill yourself! _

_Get out of the way! You'll be fried! _This voice had the same old-person squawk, and was as familiar as the first. They crammed into his mind, shoving out other thoughts.

_Stop, damn it! _

"Ganondorf!" Nabooru cried. "Please stop! I--breathe!" Some of her words were lost in the wind, but he understood, and a wave of hopelessness, almost as crippling as the heat, washed over him.

_Cut off the connection!_

"I can't!" he shouted, not sure who he was talking to.

_You must! _

"Hurry!" Nabooru pleaded.

"I . . . can't . . ."

_I'll help you! _The women's' voices blended into one, and something strong shoved against his hand, pushing against the spell. Blood rushed loud and fast and hot through his veins and in his ears, full of the strength he'd been lacking. The wind was softer now, but blowing around in all directions. He thought he'd heard Aveni or Krysu--not Nabooru, never Nabooru--screaming, but he wasn't sure. His heart pounded somewhere around his throat and the blood was flowing and everything was hidden by a film of blackish gunk that covered his eyes even though he had them wide open and searching. Feeling the wind change direction and slap his face like a thousand needles, he squeezed them shut and ducked his head. Blasts still rocketed from his hand, but with less force.

_Concentrate! _

He did. Letting the strength in his blood mix with adrenaline, he fought like a madman, forcing the power down until it was gone. The wind died down, too, but the blood gushing and his heart pounding and his mind screaming with adrenaline would not be quieted.

Finally his muscles collapsed, and Nabooru fell with him into a heap onto the floor. He didn't open his eyes, fearing the black gunk would block his vision again.

The voice split into two again, and he slowly began to register the familiarity.

_Good. _They sounded as weary as he felt. _That's very good--for now, at least. _

"I couldn't do it," he whispered.

_You will. With time and training, you will. Come back. You have amazing potential--that's why we raised you. We helped you realize your purpose. You need our training to realize your destiny._

He didn't answer. He didn't know how.

SMACK. His hand went to his cheek, which was bright pink and smarting. "I didn't even do anything this time," he moaned, slightly delirious. He opened his eyes just enough to see Nabooru leaning over him, her expression frantic. The gunk made it hard to see much more without making it look like he was conscious.

"Ganondorf? Ganondorf? Wake up, you idiot! Did you say something? I can't hear you; you're mumbling. Can you open your eyes? What was that you said earlier? You couldn't do _what? _You did a _lot, _Ganondorf, some of which I am going to be seriously pissed about if you're okay. Oh! I have news, too! But first, you have to be awake."

He seriously considered closing his eyes and falling back into blackness, but Nabooru was raising her hand again, presumably to hit him some more. Fast as ever, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, his lips curving into a small smile. She froze, looking down at him in surprise. He opened his eyes, blinking the gunk out of them, and sat up. He ran his finger along his eyelid and studied it. The black-red blood clung to his finger like some gross mutant ameba. Unable to see where he was hurt, he traced his finger up the trail of blood: over his eyebrows, across his forehead, into the hairline. Suddenly the skin dropped away from under his finger. More blood than he thought was in his body poured out of it. He pushed into it with a gentlest of pressures and felt bone.

_That's my skull, _he thought numbly. _The cut went to my skull. I'm touching it. _

The blood trickled from the wound over his hand and down his arm, making it look like his arm was severely mangled. He stared at the blood for a long time. Then realization sank in and with it came a sudden, staggering amount of pain.

"Ah!" He clapped his hands to his forehead, pushing down to stop the bleeding. "Aaaagh! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow . . ." With each _ow, _he tried to make it stop bleeding, causing another _ow. _

Nabooru grabbed his hands and pulled them away from his head. "Here." She placed them on her shoulders. She leaned backward, reaching for something she could wrap around his head. Finding nothing amidst the wreckage, she pulled off her thin shirt, revealing a plain white strapless bra. Ganondorf rolled his eyes and glared defiantly at the wall to his left. "How practical," he muttered sarcastically.

"Hey, I am nothing if not practical," she informed him, clearly not embarrassed at all; merely amused that Ganondorf was. She rolled her shoulders back, displaying it proudly and smirking evilly. He didn't even glance at her--he just shook his messy shoulder-length red hair so that it hung between them.

Nabooru wrapped her shirt around his head, trying to make as painless as possible and failing. He refused to turn her way as she chattered about trivial things like war and devastation. What did that matter in comparison to . . .

"What is your _problem?" _Nabooru demanded, putting a hand on her hip. "Are you gay or something and didn't tell me?"

"WHAT?! No!" he exclaimed, gaping at her. "No way!"

She pouted. "Am I ugly, then?"

"No!" He really didn't like this cross-examination. It was like a test with all too many ways to fail.

She grinned for a split second. "I know. So, I'm hot, and you're not gay . . ."

He turned back to the wall with a sigh. "So . . . ?"

"So why won't you look at me? That wall can't be _that _interesting."

"I'm _normal." _Their relationship had taken a bizarre turn, and he was barely hanging on. "I don't do this a lot, you know!"

"The whole relationship thing, or the whole 'eyeing-people's-boobs' thing?"

"The relationship--" He stopped to think that through, trying to figure out the trick to that question. "Both!"

"There's a first time for everything," she said teasingly.

He not-so-gently shoved her off him and stomped over to the corner, crossing his arms and glaring. She followed him.

"Farore, you need to relax. I was only joking!" He didn't turn around. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have taken it that far, but it was so much fun. You should have seen your face . . . it was hilarious." He glanced at her over his shoulder. She _looked _sincere, but with her there really was no way to tell. So he continued to glare at the corner.

_Thud. _Something tugged onto his arm, and he looked down to see Nabooru, one hand clamped onto his, and the second balled into a fist against her chest. "Oh Goddesses, how I have sinned! I have gone against my King and made fun of my boyfriend--I think. It's quite possible, or maybe probable or even definite. Who knows? And I don't care because he likes me and is a damn good kisser! Anyway, I have caused him grief and sadness and woe and these are terrible deeds! I should have respected his uncomfortableness around boobs, but instead I was cruel and teasingful and thus there is no other punishment! I must be thrown to the rabid monkey priests! Oh, people I have wronged, forgive me! Forgive me! Augggh!" With another wailing screech, she fell backward.

Ganondorf laughed. There really wasn't anything else he could have done. Besides, that was the most sincere thing she could possibly say--it wasn't a very easy thing for her.

He took her hand and pulled her up. "Those rabid monkey priests aren't getting you without a fight," he said with a grudging smile. She beamed. It was involuntary, a reflex reaction. She hid her relief and happiness beneath another smirk. But he didn't mind. At least he knew that her love was there. _Way_ down there.

Nabooru shrugged. "I'm really not sure where I would have found rabid monkey priests, anyway." Then she grinned and crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't worry--no boob exposure."

He took her hands and interlocked their fingers, kissing her on the nose. "I might have been overreacting a little." He gave her a somber look. "I was only doing it for your amusement."

"And I was only groveling for yours," she answered quickly.

"Of course." His face was inches from hers.

"Of course," she breathed.

"Oh thank _Din _you're all right, _Your Highness,"_ Krysu said, elbowing her way between them.

Ganondorf stepped back quickly, away from Krysu but also away from Nabooru. To cover her frustration at her ex-friend, she grabbed a piece of leather and deftly tied her hair back into a high ponytail.

"It looks cute like that," he said with a smile. "Why don't you wear it like that more often?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Because then I'd look like everyone else!"

Krysu grabbed Ganondorf's hand. "I was so worried you'd gotten hurt!" she gushed. "Come quick, see Aveni!"

She hurried toward the room Aveni had been hiding in, not giving Ganondorf time to look around. The door was ajar, and inside it looked like a tornado had hit it. Krysu had a few shallow cuts, but for the most part had missed the worst of the attack. He thanked the Goddesses for that. Aveni was sitting propped up against an overturned crate, nursing a gash on her arm that ran from her forearm to a little past her elbow. She was bruised all over and clearly shaken. She had followed Nabooru's example in dressing her wound; and if it was disturbing to see your _girlfriend_ in a bra, it was downright alarming to see your _mother _in one.

Fully believing he'd be scarred for life, Ganondorf looked at Krysu, the only Gerudo left wearing a shirt, and evidently the only one still sane. "What _happened?" _he asked, confused.

"I'd like to know that for myself," Aveni retorted, glancing up from her cut to give Ganondorf a flat glare. He met her gaze unflinchingly. "I haven't even gone outside, but I heard from Krysu that it was shocking."

"I, uh, didn't . . . actually notice," he confessed, a hint of a blush creeping up his neck and coloring his cheeks a lovely shade of magenta.

"He had more . . . _distracting _things to think about," Krysu said with a meaningful look at the doorway, where Nabooru was leaning.

"Nabooru!" Ganondorf exclaimed, as though just realizing she was there. "I totally forgot! ARE YOU HURT?!" He looked her over in sudden panic.

"No! Well, sort of . . ."

"How can you be _sort of _hurt?" he wondered incredulously. "You're either hurt or you're not hurt. There's nothing in between."

"Yeah, well, Nabooru has a talent for proving people wrong," Krysu muttered.

"It's nothing, really. I just reopened that one little scratch I got earlier . . ."

"Which one?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's just reopened, and bleeding a little. But it's no big deal!" she added hastily.

"Wait. Is this 'scratch' the horrible evil cut that almost tore you in two?"

"One of them, yeah . . . seriously, relax. You're like a mother cucco or something."

He suddenly noticed that she had her hands behind her back. He snatched them and pulled them apart. He gaped at her bloodstained hands in horror. In one fluid motion, he whirled her around, started to take off his shirt, got his head stuck in the arm hole, wrestled with it for a while, finally got it off, and wrapped it around her waist. Actually, only the whirling around part was fluid.

"I'm fine!" Nabooru insisted as he tightened his makeshift bandage. "Ow!"

"Fine, huh?" Ganondorf said with an exasperated expression. She could be so frustrating.

She held her head high. "Yes." She strode out the door. Immediately she froze in her tracks. "Ganondorf?" she called back to him.

"Yeah?" He was helping Aveni and Krysu put the room together.

"Have you had a chance to look around yet?" Her voice rose several octaves.

"No . . . why? Are you okay? Are there any Hylians--oh Goddess." He froze, as motionless as Nabooru.

The first thing he noticed was the blood. It was everywhere--splattered on the walls, the floor, the ceiling--_everywhere._ Bodies littered the floor in pools of blood. Some had died from the pots and glass and weapons the wind tossed around carelessly; others had been roasted alive. He stepped over a smoking corpse and slowly made his way down the hall, until he was where they had been standing. The entire corridor was doused in blood and scorched black--where they had been, however, it was a pristine white, speckled with only a few drops of blood. He put his hand to it. It was hot, like sand that had been baking in the sun, but no black scorches, no unsurvivable heat. It seemed like there was a little circle around them that he'd made unconsciously, that had protected them from the spell. The only injuries they'd received was when the wind had changed direction, blowing toward them and weakening the barrier. But they were much better off than the others.

This magic . . . this power he had learned . . . it could win their war.

It could save them . . .

_I lost control, _he thought, jerked back into harsh reality. _I couldn't control the spell. It would have kept going if they hadn't helped me. It would have kept going until we were dead. And there would have been nothing I could have done to stop it. _He walked around the circle, smearing blood and ashes that were on his boots across it. _If I could learn . . . I could be stronger. I could be the strongest magician there ever was, the strongest king there ever was. _

"Ganondorf?" Nabooru's voice was so faint, lost in the hugeness of his realization.

_I want to learn magic. I want to learn how to control it, how to summon it. I want to learn how to destroy cities in an instant, how to snuff out lives in a moment. The destructive magic I'd never even looked at; I want to do it. I want to . . . I want to . . . _

"Kill," he whispered, feeling a tremor of shock ran down his spine. But he felt no regret. War was killing.

"Ganondorf! What are you thinking?!" Her voice was growing louder as she came closer, slipping on the blood.

"Have you ever wanted to kill someone before?" he asked, keeping his head down.

"Krysu sometimes, when she steals my stuff," she answered with a shrug, coming closer every few seconds. "You sometimes, when you're annoying." She gave him a small smile.

"No," he replied, having trouble breathing. "Not like that. I . . . I want to kill them."

"What?"

"I want to kill them all. All the Hylians. All the Sheikah. For what they've done to us. I want them all dead." The words were true, but as fiercely as he wanted them to die, he wished just as strongly that he could go back to the way he was before.

Was this person _him?_

"I . . . I don't know who this is," he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know who this is, or why he won't leave. I . . . don't know . . ."

"Ganondorf . . ." And suddenly she was there, with her arms around him and her face buried in his shoulder, and he was holding her up as much as she was holding him up, and they just stood there, holding onto each other.

"Don't go anywhere," he told her.

"Of course not. I don't have anywhere to go."

Aveni leaned against the doorjamb, watching the door at the end of the hall. She'd thought she heard voices coming from that direction. She knew the first group was too small to be all of them. There was bound to be more.

"Ganondorf--" she began, but he had stiffened too, glaring at the door. Nabooru pulled away, looking up at him with wide eyes. She didn't have to tell him anymore. Krysu looked happier, at least. She drew her scimitars and walked to Ganondorf's side. Nabooru did the same, still looking at Ganondorf curiously.

"What?" she asked.

Aveni stood next to him, holding her sword out, ready to fight.

_"What?" _Nabooru repeated. Then she heard it. They all stood in a line, slightly battered, facing the door.

Nabooru was watching Ganondorf, trying to figure out if he was okay.

Krysu was looking at both of them, jealous as hell and searching for weaknesses in their relationship, cracks that she could use to wedge between them.

Aveni was also scrutinizing her son, hoping he wouldn't use that spell again. She didn't think any of them could take it.

Ganondorf ignored the other two pairs of eyes on him, focusing only on Nabooru. He smiled, like everything was dandy and he wasn't going insane. She bit her lip and nodded, her overconfident self seeming to have left her. He heard the voices growing louder and he forced his gaze back to the door. He didn't have it in him to use that spell.

They all poured in--about half the size of the first group. These were the stragglers; the ones who had barely escaped death; the last Hylians in the Gerudo Fortress.

Ganondorf didn't even wait for the others. He just lunged forward. He had the exact same feeling he'd had before, in the cafeteria. Only this time he thought it might be wrong to think that way. But it didn't stop him from seeing the awesome clarity and feeling the strength. It didn't stop him from killing every single Hylian in that hall in a few minutes.

When he was done, he let the sword drop from his hand, and leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees and breathing hard.

Nabooru, Aveni, and Krysu were all standing in the same place they'd been in before. They hadn't moved an inch. But, feeling his gaze sweep over her, Nabooru rushed forward. She tripped over something and, looking down, saw a head. Its eyes were wide open and staring. Stumbling to a halt a few feet away, she noticed that there were three bodies between them and that he had killed them all. She couldn't make herself go any farther. "A-are oh . . .y-y-y . . ." She stopped to compose herself and rearrange the words in her mind so that they made sense. She _never _stammered, and rarely had trouble getting her words to sound right before. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and tried not think about what that meant. Exhaling deeply, she tried again. "Are you okay?" Still feeling uncomfortable, she took her hands out of her pockets, wrung her hands, and shoved them back in.

"I . . . guess so." He straightened, and Nabooru realized, for the first time, just how tall Ganondorf was. He was a full head and shoulders above her. He was so much stronger, too. She'd never noticed how strong he was, either. She couldn't look up at him, it couldn't sink in how powerful he was, what he was capable of.

"That was . . . something." What was wrong with them? Could fifty deaths really ruin a relationship?

"I did what I had to do," he snapped.

"I never said you didn't!"

"You implied it."

"I didn't mean it like that! What kind of thickheaded moron are you, to slaughter so many and then blame _me?!" _She was pissed now.

"So you _do _think that--"

_"No, _damn it! What the hell is wrong with you!"

"Me? What the hell's wrong with _you?!" _

"Nothing! You're the one with the crazy killing fetish! Not me!"

_No. _She clapped her hands over her mouth, panicked. How could she have said that, after what he'd told her?

He just glared at her, his jaw tight and his eyes furious. He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

She wanted to die. She also wanted to take him with her.

"Nabooru?" Aveni asked, right behind her.

"Waaaagh! What?" Nabooru turned and sighed. "What do you want!"

Aveni didn't even flinch. "Could you go check and make sure their aren't any Hylians left, then help Krysu get rid of the . . ." She gestured to the blood and the bodies.

"Yeah, I know." Nabooru put her hands over her eyes, rubbing the exhaustion out of them. "Sure. Whatever."

"Thank you." As Nabooru turned to leave, Aveni added, "You were right, you know. They aren't all bad, and Ganondorf is a thickheaded moron."

"Yeah." They shared little half-smiles, all either of them could manage. Krysu sighed and exited the opposite door Ganondorf had left. Once she was gone, Aveni gave Nabooru a pleading look.

"Please don't judge him too harshly. Everything you said only confirmed what he thought. He's guilty, and doesn't want to be."

"I . . . I know," Nabooru answered thickly. To hide the tears and the lump in her throat, she turned and made her way to the door.

"Nabooru? Last thing, I promise. . . . Being strong is not a Gerudo's main purpose. Loyalty, skill, intelligence. That's what we are. Hiding emotions is not our goal. Let the Sheikah be the spies."

"Do you always give this much advice to people?" Nabooru asked.

Aveni laughed and shook her head. "I've just wanted to say that to you for a long time and never had the chance."

"Thanks . . . I guess." She nodded awkwardly and left, making her way through the familiar tunnels of the Fortress, checking to make sure that all the Hylians were gone and relieving the Gerudo of their duties. Then she went back downstairs and cleared out all the bodies, shoving them in an underground room filled with ice they had under the Fortress and throwing salt at them. There would be a meeting to decide what to do with them later. That was more meat than they got in a year.

Finally she collapsed on her bed in her room, too exhausted to take off her shoes or untie her hair. With a weary sigh, she hauled herself out of bed to throw on her nightshirt and take out her hair tie.

Meanwhile Ganondorf was roaming the halls, looking for somewhere to go. On his way back to his room he ran into Krysu. She stopped, then smiled shyly. "Hey . . . sir."

"Hi." It came out sounding more like a question than a greeting, but he didn't have energy for anything more.

"You alright? You look a little . . . preoccupied."

"That's a way to put it," he answered with a small laugh, running a hand through his hair.

"Anything I can do?"

"Uh . . . no. I don't see any way you can help."

"_I _do," she answered, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "I can listen." She wiggled her ears for emphasis. "What could it hurt?"

This was a very bad idea. Even he, stupid as he was, could see that. This was Nabooru's ex-best-friend. He wasn't sure how, but they hated each other. There was no way that could have been smart.

And yet . . . maybe it was just having someone bother to listen to him. Or maybe it was the fact that Krysu looked so concerned and understanding.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Her smile lit up the hallway, open and slightly coy. "Great! Come on." She gently took him by the wrist, as though afraid he'd run away. Which was what he should've done. But he followed her to her room.

He sat down gingerly on her bed. She placed her hands in her lap and turned to him eagerly. "Go ahead, Your Majesty."

"Thanks," he repeated. He took a deep breath and blurted out everything; how he thought he was going crazy and trying to kill everything, and how Nabooru seemed to alternate from compassionate to distant about it.

During this whole rant, he expected Krysu to look disgusted or sympathetic or at least _interested. _But she spent most of it brushing out her long hair or touching up a bit of her ocher-and-pale-blue makeup. Every few minutes she'd make an commiserating noise, but without conviction. Once he'd finished, Krysu sat there for about three minutes, not realizing he wasn't still speaking. When she did, she murmured, "That's tough." She put down her hair brush and turned away from the mirror, slightly pursing her gold-tinted lips. "That's _real _tough. In fact, I don't see how you'd handle it without someone to talk to, and frankly, I don't think Nabooru's very kind to you." She leaned forward. "She's not great at 'being there' for others. All she cares about is herself. She needs to be the center of attention, and to be better than anyone else. I'm not like that."

He pushed Krysu away. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

She looked offended. "Yes I do!"

"Nabooru's not like that. Maybe she seems that way to you, but she listens to people, she's sweet--to an extent--and she's a hell of a lot better person than you are!"

"_Guys_," Krysu said, acting like she was an expert, though she only knew him and a few Hylians she'd met in the Market. "You're all clueless."

"That's not true! I--" Ganondorf suddenly wondered why he was telling Krysu this, when the person who had never heard it before, who--despite her devil-may-care sarcasm--needed to hear it. What was Krysu to him? Nothing.

What was Nabooru to him?

Everything.

"I've gotta go," he said brusquely, and flung the door open.

"Wait!" Krysu begged, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with pleading eyes. "You _what_? What were you going to say? Don't you want to talk more?"

"Not to you." And he was gone, his heart pounding in his ears, blocking out all other thought.

* * *

Nabooru was sitting on the edge of her bed, exactly where Krysu had been, brushing her hair with an identical brush. The only difference was the frown on her expression and that her face was washed clean of makeup. She gently removed her jewelry, looking at her nightshirt (a ratty old blue Hylian men's tunic with the name "Bob" embroidered in yellow letters across the breast) with a sigh. She'd love a new shirt, but she couldn't. 

"Oh, well," she said, straightening out the shirt so that "Bob" could be read clearly. "No big deal." She picked up her brush again and began smoothing out her red hair.

The knock of the door make her start, and the brush left several little indents on the side of her head and neck. (History lesson! The Gerudo brushes were fairly crude, and were made out of spare bits of metal and wood, so they were somewhat sharp when stabbed into one's skull). "This better be good!" she snarled, dabbing the tiny drops of blood on her neck.

Outside, Ganondorf was trying to decide whether or not to knock again when he heard an oath, then the door swung open. Nabooru's expression turned from impatience to shocked disbelief.

"Ganondorf?" she asked incredulously.

He wordlessly took her face in his hands and kissed her, gently drawing them both back into the room.

The door slammed shut.

* * *

Koume and Kotake both collapsed onto their couch, breathing hard. They were worn out. 

"That was a success," Koume said.

"That went very well," Kotake agreed. "I think with a little nudge, he will be delightfully evil."

"I can't wait!" Koume conjured two glass goblets and some whiskey from thin air, and they clinked their glasses together.

"When you told me what you had planned, I thought it couldn't possibly work," Kotake confessed.

"Always have faith in me," her sister said wisely, sipping her drink.

"Of course . . ." Kotake murmured, staring into space. "How _did_ you make it work, anyway? All I did was the spell."

Koume leaned forward in her seat. "You know that spell you cast every morning on Ganondorf's food when he was growing up with us?"

"Mm-hmm. And it never helped. He was still as skinny and muscleless as a stick."

"Well, it turns out that you needed to increase the ingredients by about three times to make it work."

"You've been doing that for all this time?"

"Of course. I've been casting that spell on the Leevers out here. When the girls pick them and bring them in, they give extras to the King. All the girls are stronger, but he is the strongest. That way, their army is powerful. Also, I've been keeping tabs on him. He's prepared for war, though he doesn't want it. He's made allies with the Moblins, and is looking for more creatures to have join them."

"All right, so he's got an army," Kotake prompted. "He didn't want to fight."

"I know. He's too soft for an evil ruler. He needed much more backbone. So I gave him some. And what better time than during an attack, completely in the fault of the Hylians?"

"You had perfect timing, to pop into his mind at such a convenient occasion," her twin commented. "If I hadn't known you weren't a meddler, I would be suspicious of such a coincidence." She raised her bushy white eyebrows. "At any rate, I'm curious."

"I didn't meddle!" Koume exclaimed, shaking her head. "Honestly! . . . Let's just say that a certain old man gets a voice in his head that says the Gerudo had the Triforce. Suppose this voice calls itself one of the Goddesses. This old man is very excited. He goes into a bar and starts to spread a rumor that the Gerudo are trying to use the Triforce to take over Hyrule. When questioned, he says that he hears this message from the Goddesses. Several men get excited, and grab weapons to attack. They have no plan, but they run into a few Sheikah and convince them to come along. These Hylians are slightly tipsy, so they have inadvertently altered the story a bit, claiming that the King ordered them to attack the Fortress. This group all came together and attacked the Fortress. At this time, I . . . tweaked Ganondorf's emotions, playing up the anger and hate and sort of ignoring forgiveness and sympathy. Of course, I had to completely wipe out reason and throw in a lust of magic. That's where you come in, I believe."

"Brilliant!" Kotake cheered.

"I know," Koume replied, cackling. Then she sat up and closed her eyes, mumbling under her breath. A few minutes later she opened her eyes and smiled, settling back down.

"What?" Kotake demanded. "How did you meddle?"

"Well . . . The King has discovered the attack. He is investigating the rumor, finding it true. He is growing angry, both at the Gerudo and at his own people. He is all too ready for the war. When he asks around for the old man who started this whole thing off, he discovers that the man is dead. Reasons are unknown."

* * *

Oooh . . . tuh-ric-kay! (Which is tricky, for you normal people. By the way, if you ARE normal, what the hell are you doing reading my story?) What will happen?? Hmm? Hmm? . . . Damned if I know. But, thanks to my dear friend myshadowspirit, who spent the better part of an hour designing an outline with me, I have a vague idea! But you don't! Muhahaha! P.s. Thank you, Jackie. That was a lifesaver. This chapter is dedicated to you. And it's not such a bad chapter to dedicate. I think I'll dedicate all my chapters to people. That would be fun. 


	29. Who Doesn't Love an Idiot?

Well, I said I'd dedicate every chapter to people, so here goes: 

Ch. 1: Jackie (I have a feeling a lot of these will be dedicated to you) for letting me stop my other story in the middle to work on this (aww)

Ch. 2: Mom (cuz that's as far as she read, which is more than most people's mothers)

Ch. 3: Amanda (for loving Demi)

Ch. 4: Julia (for reading that far)

Ch. 5: (holy crap, this is getting hard) uh . . . Zelda. For being stupid. Again.

Ch. 6-9: Jackie (for snapping me out of my "dragging this on and on" funk. And for loving Sheik)

Ch. 10: Demi (for waiting so patiently while I wrote about Sheik)

Ch. 11: Amanda. Hands-down. She flipped out when she read that. Well, as much as Amanda can flip out. Which isn't much. She's _mellow_.

Ch. 12, 13, 14, 15 and 17: Daphnes. Because his life is so pathetic.

Ch. 16: Demi again. Poor Demi.

Ch. 18: Jackie. For the outline. Oh, and Ganondorf and Nabooru. They're soooo the doomed couple.

Ch. 19: Everyone who has a craptastic existence. Which is everyone.

Whoo! That was long! But fun. Now read your short chapter! It was like three pages!

* * *

_Chapter Nineteen_

_Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. _

Unfortunately, every time Demi repeated that little mantra to himself, it sounded more and more like crap.

_Okay, reverse psychology. Whatever that is . . . Freak out. Freak out. FREAK OUT!!!! _

_Demi, stop it. _

He sighed at the Dark Triforce. "Easy for you to say," he muttered, making his way across town toward the noise of swords clanging and women screaming. "Sounds like Maria and the others are having a jolly good time."

_Shouldn't you be having fun, too? Pirates are supposed to have fun. _

"Ah, shut up. What do you know? You're an inanimate object!"

_Technically, not anymore. And I really have to thank you for that. _

"Did I have a choice?" He was coming up closer to the pirates, and a he was beginning to enter the crowd.

_No. But it's nice to be nice. _It chuckled darkly. _You're all mine, you know. I control you. _

"Shut _up!" _Demi shouted. People turned and stared at him. "Uh . . . the screaming's giving me a bit of a headache," he explained, trying for the snooty accent that man had used.

"Where's your shirt? It's indecent to be wandering around like that," an older woman admonished.

"Those pirates . . . stole it?"

"I'm not surprised," a nasal-voiced girl piped up, looking at him admiringly. "They're very tricky. One of them stole my garter! See? See?"

He raised his hands and looked away as the girl shoved her leg at him. "Yes, that's very tricky . . . I'll be going now."

As he left, he heard the girl and her friends whispering loudly. And giggling. Don't forget the giggling.

"Did you see him?"

Tee-hee!

"He was so _cute_!"

Tee-hee!

"Positively adorable."

Tee-hee!

"He must be an newcomer or something."

Tee-hee!

"I don't recognize him."

Tee-hee!

"Of course not. They sure don't make 'em like _that _around here!"

Tee-hee! Their giggles were grating on his nerves, and as flattering as it was that people liked him, it was very . . . weird.

"Hey! _Hey_!" One of the girls caught up to him. "Where are you from?"

"Fotmea," he answered.

She stood there for a few minutes, then giggled--_tee-hee!--_and ran back to her friends. They were arguing about whether or not he liked garter girl or the other girl better by the time he got out of earshot. Blessed earshot! (Or non-earshot, as it may be).

The crowd was pushing up all around him. Good thing he wasn't claustrophobic.

Suddenly everyone was gone. He was standing alone in a big empty space of emptiness. He was pondering at the lack of people when a hunk of wood smacked him on the head. "Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his head. The girls were up there, lighting things on fire, throwing hunks of wood at the crowd, and dragging people up to challenge them to fight. He noticed that two girls were pointing at him and cracking up. He assumed they'd thrown the wood, and gave them a death glare.

Great. He was bleeding. Stupid pirates.

Maria lunged forward, brandishing a torch and grabbing his arm. "I've got one!" she shouted joyfully, and was answered with a chorus of cheers from the other pirates. "Come up here and play with us!" she taunted.

"What the hell--!? Are you crazy?!" Demi demanded, twisting out of her grip. He was seriously pissed off now; it hadn't been a good day.

"Shut up," Maria hissed. She snatched his arm again and pulled him toward the center of the group. Hidden by the others, she whispered, "Where's Ty and Annabelle? What are you doing here alone? No, what are you doing here, period? You had orders! What hairbrained scheme convinced you to ignore your orders, huh?"

"New ones," he responded coolly. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. "Ty and Annabelle have been arrested. Ty told me to come to you. So tell me what to do, and I'll do it!" He wanted to get off the stupid island.

"Why don't you-- ah!"

The guards had arrived finally, and screwed up the courage to come over. They took Demi by the shoulders and pulled him away. "Why were you talking to that pirate?" one guard demanded, looking at him through narrowed eyes. The gigling girls were standing nearby, clutching one another and paying close attention to their conversation.

"I . . . was asking her to marry me?" he guessed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Maria slap her forehead, and he knew she was listening. He heard a gasp, then a thud, as one of the giggling girls fainted. "Because she used to be a noble, and I love her? And then she became a pirate to escape me!" He was getting into it now. "And so alas! I never thought I'd see her again. And now she's here! Joyous hallelujah!" He flung his arms into the air like one of those spiritual preachers he'd seen in Fotmea. "And you're letting her get away! How could you?!" He collapsed to his knees, having a very good time.

The guard was raising his hands and stepping back. Demi was relieved for a full five seconds, until the guard caught sight of Maria laughing at him. "You look like a pirate, you know," the guard said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I do?" Demi asked, his voice squeaking. Maria snorted. "That must just be because these pirates stole my . . . shirt . . ." This was not working. He knocked the guard's hand away and took off, shouting, "I love you, Maria! Don't forget me!"

Once he was in the safe cover of the trees, he leaned back against a huge farmhouse. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. Slowly his heartbeat started to slow down. Feeling a bit more calm, he thought back on everything. Stealing . . . hugging the lady . . . the "bong" conversation . . . almost getting arrested . . . the giggling girls . . . pissing off Maria . . . almost getting arrested _again . . . _screaming,, "I love you! Don't forget me!" to Maria. He started to laugh, then couldn't stop. He just stood there, laughing like an idiot in the shadows.

_Great. I get stuck with an idiot . . . again. _

**Ah, shut up, **Demi said to the Dark Triforce, feeling lightheaded all of sudden. He was high after the stupidity of that day thus far. **If this is pirating, I like it. **

_Oh, really? And has a certain blonde Hylian slipped your mind? _

His cheerful mood disappeared immediately.

_Now that you're somewhat competent again, how do you propose we save those pirates you like so much? _

**What about Zelda? **

_I don't give a damn about Zelda. I give a damn about keeping you alive. And we need those girls to keep you alive. So go find them! I only brought that fickle girlfriend--or whatever she is--up to get you thinking clearly. Or as clearly as you're capable of thinking. _

Feeling a hell of a lot less happy--and embarrassed that subtle reminder of Jade--Demi turned to the house he was hiding behind. He tried the door. It unlocked. He gently eased it open, slipping inside silently. Upstairs, he found a white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of tan slacks (or pants, as normal people call them). He slung them over his arm and tried to tame his hair with a comb and a tub of water. He scrubbed the dirt off his face, changed into the pants and shirt, and made his way out. Hanging on a coathanger was a brown hat. Of course, being the excellent pirate that he was, he stole it. Glancing at his reflection, he was surprised to see a clean(ish), well-dressed man, with a confident smile and a slightly rugged appearance.

Maria would never recognize him. Neither would Jade or Zelda.

Smiling, he stepped out into the bright sunlight. He stopped a young woman walking by.

"Excuse me," he said, forgetting to use his snooty accent. The natural politeness to adults was something Zelda had found hilarious. "I'm looking for the jail . . . or prison house . . . or whatever you call it. I'm new here." He flashed her a grin, painfully uncomfortable and positive he must have looked like an idiot.

"Uh . . . it's that way," she said, pointing and giving him a hesitant smile back. "Where are you from, exactly?"

"Fotmea," he answered, then turned and walked away. He could feel her eyes on his back as he left.

Down at the prison, he played with the cuffs on his shirt nervously.

_Any ideas yet? _

**I'm working on it. **

_Work faster. _

Demi ignored it. Holding his head high, he entered.

Surprisingly, they let him go down to the pirates cell. Unaware of his presence, they huddled around their tiny, barred window. One of the girls had a small knife they's smuggled in, and she was sawing at the bars.

"Come on! Faster!"

"You can't rush these things!"

"Watch me!"

Apart from the excitement, Maria, Ty, Annabelle, and a girl he vaguely recalled was named Liz were talking, their heads bent close together.

"Ty, I can't believe you disobeyed my orders--" Maria hissed.

"Screw the orders!" Ty declared.

"Don't you think we have more important things to think about?" Liz asked diplomatically. "Like how to tell those idiots over there that they're not going to get out with a pocketknife?"

"Just wait and see!" the girl with the knife shot back, having overheard the last part.

"Ty has to learn--"

"You're nuts, Maria!"

Annabelle cleared her throat. The other three looked at her sharply; she'd been staring into space, and no one thought she was listening. "Do you mind?" she asked politely. "I have an idea."

They caught sight of Demi, who was directly behind her, and completely forgot about Annabelle.

"Come on, I have smart ideas sometimes," Annabelle said.

Silence. The other girls were staring at Demi.

"I'm getting seriously ticked off, you know!" Annabelle's face was turning pink from annoyance, and Demi was waiting for someone to speak.

Liz surprised everyone by laughing. "Took you long enough, new boy!" she called. Every girl turned as Demi stepped forward. He coughed uncomfortably. "Uh, hi," he mumbled with a wave. "Thanks, Liz," he added.

"This kid's observant," Maria commented approvingly.

Liz just tossed her head, making her hair flutter. "Nah, I'm just awesome and memorable like that."

Annabelle whirled around, her blue eyes widening in shock. "Demi!" she shouted happily. Ty practically tackled Annabelle to the ground, covering her mouth. Demi heard footsteps outside the door. Demi panicked. There was nowere to hide here, so he kept running down the aisle, abandoning the pirates.

"Hey! Where the hell are you going!"

The Dark Triforce sighed irritably. _What are you doing? _

**I don't know! I'm making it up as I go along! **

_You're doing a great job so far._

At the end of the hall he found another exit leading out the back. He went out, then ran back around the building, into the front entrance.

_You just went in a circle, you moron! _

Demi ignored him. Running as fast as he could, he blew into the front room and past three shocked guards. "Sorry I left something in there I'll get it and be going goodbye!" he shouted in one breath. He caught up with the guards and slammed his fist in the back of each of their heads (mostly by accident). They went down. Demi tripped over them and stumbled. Feeling a sudden, sharp pain in his hands, he shook them. "Ow." The pirates stared, unimpressed, at him.

"That was brilliant. I would of never thought of that!" said Liz sarcastically.

Demi rummaged thought the guard's pockets until he found the keys. "Hey, at least the guards won't be any trouble now, huh?" he said defensively. He idly twirled the key ring around his index finger. "But, hey, if you don't want to get out . . ."

"Come on!" Maria said angrily.

He started to unlock thier cell, but stopped, and stood up. "What will the other guards say when I come running out with a bunch of pirates?"

"Coincidence?" Ty suggested with a smirk. "Or you can just tell them you accidentally set us free. I'd believe it. You're the only one stupid enough to actually do that. The guards would believe you in an instant. Stupidity is written all over your face." She chuckled at her joke.

"Ha. Ha. And another ha. Don't piss off the guy with the keys."

Annabelle gasped. "You wouldn't do that to us, would you?"

Demi shrugged. "If Ty doesn't shut up."

For the second time that hour, he pulled off the guard's shirt, and took off his own. He quickly switched, and shoved him into an empty cell. He took the other one and set him on the ground. Turning to Maria, he held out his hand and said, "Whiskey."

"What!" Maria said. "I don't have whiskey! That's offensive! How could you say something like that?"

"Whiskey," Demi repeated flatly.

She glowered, then searched her pockets and handed him a nearly empty bottle. He downed it in one gulp, then approached Liz. "Whiskey."

She laughed. "Spoken like a true pirate." She tossed him a bottle. He placed it next to the unconcious guard.

_"Now _will you let us out?" Ty asked sourly.

He unlocked their cell quietly. "Wait for a few minutes, then leave," he instructed them.

Back in the front room, the guards looked at him strangely. "Who're you?"

"I am the new guard. Didn't anyone tell you?" Demi said. "I'm, uh, guarding stuff. It's . . . guardy."

"Are you okay? Where are the other two?"

"I'm fine! Anyway, I took over for those other guards because they were . . . drunk. You can go check. One left, and the other passed out. Oh, and that guy who came in? He was trying to set the pirates free, so I threw him in a cell." He leaned back cockily, certain he had them fooled.

Suddenly they heard screaming from the direction of the cells. "What the hell am I doing in here? I'm in a cell, what's up with that! Bernie? Bernie, what are you doing? It's no time to be drinking! Bernie, wake up and let me out of here! AH!! PIRATES! THERE ARE PIRATES OUT HERE! NOT IN CELLS! AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Demi's brain froze. "Oh, he's just saying that so you'll let him out. They do that sometimes."

The two guards glanced at each other suspiciously. "Really, now?"

"Yes, of course!"

The door behind them opened with a crash, and all the pirates burst out, yelling and cheering and waving their swords (which they'd recovered from Nayru knows where).

Demi stared at the pirates in shock. "What the hell are you _doing_!" he shouted, anger mixing with panic.

"What?" Maria asked innocently. "You said . . . _oh." _Comprehension dawned in her eyes. "You meant the _other _door."

"No, _really_!" His voice was unnaturally high. "Did you think I wanted _this _to happen?!"

The guards suddenly got it, and they lunged at Demi. Moving only on instinct, his brain giving him useful commands like "AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH," he ducked, swung his leg on the floor. They jumped over it, and he used his momentum to slam his foot into the closest guard's head. He immediately switched feet and rammed his elbow into the second one's face, the kicked him in the stomach. The first guard grabbed his foot in the air, and Demi drew his leg up close to his chest, then kicked out, making the guard stagger back.. Then he karate-chopped the man's neck, and, keeping his foot in the guard's hand, leapt into the air with a roundhouse kick to the second guard, pushing off his skull. Demi landed in a crouch several feet away.

The pirates stared at him, their mouths wide open.

"That was so cool!" Annabelle squealed.

"Totally and unnecessarily fancy, but awesome anyway!" Liz added.

Demi blinked, jolted out of his trance. He looked at the unconcious guards. "How did I _do_ that?" he wondered aloud. "Oh, well."

They raced back to the ship and clambered aboard. It was still tethered and untouched. The people of Penign were certain that the pirates couldn't escape.

"Sad, isn't it?" Maria chuckled.

Once they were out on the water, Maria turned to him. "Go in your cabin," she instructed.

In the few minutes it took for the pirates to make their decision, Demi had gone from pacing to sitting to pacing to looking out the window to pacing to freaking out to pacing to looking out the window to pacing to sitting. He was banging his head against the wall when Liz stuck her head into his room.

"New kid?" Her expression was unreadable.

Maria stood on the deck, flanked by the others. Their faces were all blank, which was annoying.

She stepped forward, and held out her hand. He stared at it, not sure what to do. His brain was on ice.

"Congratulations," she said. "You're a pirate."

* * *

Daphnes' fingers gently touched the smooth golden surface of the Triforce. It was warm under his fingertips, and a spot turned bright blue. Wondering what that meant, he pressed his entire palm on it. Blue sparks shot off it, and he let go immediately. Slowly, though, the colors returned to normal.

What would a king do in this situation? he thought. Carefully, he poked it. Nothing. It just turned a soft blue again.

This was kinda fun. He put both hands on it, then pulled them away quickly. Two blue handprints shone brightly, then faded.

He was suddenly aware that Zelda and Saria were watching him. He glanced over his shoulder. They had identical flat stares. He grinned sheepishly, then turned back to the Triforce.

_Focusing_.

Okay . . . a wish. How did this work?

He placed his hands on it and closed his eyes. The blue showed through his eyelids. What did the blue mean? Anyway . . .

_I wish . . . _

_Wait. You just spent the better part of two weeks making bad decisions. _Why _do you want to bless Hyrule with an even worse one? _

He needed to take it back to the castle. They could decide what to do with it.

Daphnes picked it up.

Lightning blasted through the tree, making a jagged, singed gash. It barely missed Daphnes; he could feel it as it passed over his head.

Still holding the Triforce, he turned to Zelda. His eyes were practically bugging out of his head, and his hair stuck straight up. It was smoking, and (like in them cartoons, kiddies) one hair had a tiny flame that died out when he pinched it.

"What . . . the hell . . . was that," Zelda said, shocked.

"I have no clue."

"The Great Deku Tree is angry," Saria murmured.

"Well, whoop-dee-_freakin'_-doo for the Great Deku Tree!" Zelda snapped. The trees started to shift.

"Uh-oh, that's not good," Saria said as she watched the forest change.

"What's not good!? What's going on!?" She lifted Saria up to eye level. There was a loud cracking sound. Zelda put Saria down. The sounds got louder and louder. They covered their ears, Daphnes holding the Triforce protectively.

When they looked up they discovered that they were back in the Great Deku Tree's glade.

"Um . . . hi!" Daphnes said, looking far too guilty.

'What does thy think thy are doing!?' The leaves on all the trees shook when he spoke.

"Well, you said we could look for the Triforce--"

'I said _look_ for the Sacred Relic! Not take it! Did thou think he could just _have _it!?'

"Ok, you see I wasn't going to take it, but when I was thinking of the wish to make, I started thinking, 'Gee, I've screwed up almost all my life until now, and now I have to make a great wish to end all of Hyrules problems!' What is the chance I'll screw up again? It's big, that's what and I panicked, and I'm sorry. I wanted to take it back to the Castle so I could let smarter un-screw-ups take care of it."

"Oh Daphnes, I don't think you're a screw up."

"Thanks Zel."

'And Thou thought this would be ok?' There was supicion in every word. Daphnes had to think carefully before answering.

"Uh . . . well, I . . . hmm . . . that is . . . I'm not sure. I . . . didn't exactly think that far ahead. . . right . . . um."

_Very articulate, _he admonished.

The Great Deku Tree was no more impressed with his painstakingly constructed sentence. 'Well, you've convinced me,' he began.

A little bubble of hope grew in Daphnes' chest.

'I am now thoroughly convinced that you are lying.'

The bubble burst, spewing acid. Bright pink acid. Acid the exact color of a blouse his mother had made him wear for his eighteenth birthday. He was positive it was a woman's shirt. His mother was a sick, sadistic being.

Anyway.

"But . . . but . . ." Daphnes was having trouble thinking of a good argument.

'You are clearly here to ruin Hyrule with your selfish ways.'

"But . . ."

'And I must stop you. You will not leave this forest alive. I don't know why I let you in in the first place. I am sorry I misjudged you so wrongly.'

"BUT!" He should run. He knew he should. But the only word that popped into his mind was "but."

'Farewell. May the Triforce be kept away from selfish hands from this moment on.'

Now "but" was replaced by "run," "sweet merciful crap," and "this seriously sucks." And, of course, the ever-present "SUPREME _ULIMATE _SUCKAGE!"

"Wait!" Saria cried. "They seriously weren't doing anything bad!"

"Yeah!" Zelda chimed in. "It's not Daphnes' fault that he's stupid!"

"I thought you said I wasn't a screw-up!"

"You're still an idiot!"

"Like you should be talking!"

"That's real sweet! Did anyone tell you what a charmer you are?!"

"What do I care?! I love you!"

"I love you, too!"

"WHAT NOW!"

"I DUNNO!"

"AHEM!" Saria shouted. Daphnes and Zelda, who had gotten right up into each other's faces, stopped and stared. "Have either of you noticed we're facing our impending doom?!" Not waiting for an answer, she turned back to the Great Deku Tree. "You see? How can people as stupid as they are be trying to destroy Hyrule?" Then, softer, "Do you really think I'd do anything as horrible as that?"

'No.'

"And you _did _trust them in the beginning, right?"

'Yes.'

"See? See? I'm right, aren't I?"

The tree didn't answer. It seemed to shut off. All signs of life disappeared. Saria sighed in relief.

"Saria, you are a lifesaver," Zelda said.

"Hell, yeah," Saria shot back. "And I'll keep reminding you of that until the day you die."

"Isn't she sweet?" Daphnes said with a laugh.

As they left the clearing, a voice made the trees shake. 'Don't make me regret this.'

"Uh, yeah, sure," Daphnes called nervously, wanting to leave the tree to be alone in its creepy tree-ness.

Compared to most of their time in the forest, the trek out was amazingly uneventful. Nothing tried to eat them, or kill them, or anything.

When they broke free of the woods, the sun was making its way through the sky.

"Wow," Daphnes said. "How long have we been in there?"

Zelda shrugged. "A day. Maybe two. Maybe three."

"Really?" He looked at her incredulously. "Man, time flies around you. I've accomplished more in two days than I would have alone in a week."

Saria stared at Hyrule Field enviously. "It's beautiful," she murmured, her eyes wide.

Zelda was just about to ask why she didn't just come out of the forest when she heard her name.

Impa was running toward her. She was coming in the direction of the river, and judging by the food and pillow lying over there, she'd been camped out, waiting for them.

Impa didn't even bother to say hi. She grabbed Daphnes by the shoulders and turned him to face her. And after the initial what-the-hell-is-she-grabbing-my-fiance-for pissed-off-ness, Zelda grew worried.

The expression on Impa's face was one of panic and fear.

Zelda had never seen that expression on her friend's face before, not even when Sheik had died.

Something was seriously wrong.

* * *

Jade ran a brush through her short black hair, studying her reflection. She looked a lot better than usual, she noted, inspecting her navy-blue-and-red shirt and pants. She fit in so much better with the Sheikah.

When she'd gone up to find them, she'd met a silver-haired girl with red eyes identical to hers. She didn't ask any questions; she just brought her down, threw some clothes and food at her, and said, "Here. Eat. Now."

Jade hadn't seen the girl since. But she'd met plenty of new people.

One of her newfound . . . friends--wow, it was really hard for her to say that word, since she'd never had an actual friend before (assuming Demi didn't count)--burst through the room. She had her long blond hair tied into a ponytail, and was wearing a baggy outfit nearly identical to hers.

"Hi, Tia," Jade said, startled by Tia's energy. She had even more of it than usual, which was weird, especially since her brother had just died. But this wasn't her usual happy energy. Jade could tell this was a manic energy, a desperate energy.

"Jade!" Tia blurted. "You're a Sheikah, right?"

"I-I _think_ so," she answered, flustered.

"A bona fide, honest-to-Goddess Sheikah?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Damn." Tia slapped her forehead. "Oh, well, you've admitted it. Here." She tossed Jade a silver medallion. "This means you're a real Sheikan warrior."

"Whoa . . . warrior? I'm not a warrior." Jade was feeling more than a little tired from the Sheikah's never-ending stamina--it still left her with a vague sense of confusion and whiplash.

"You are now. Come on." Tia grabbed Jade's wrist and dragged her out of the room.

"Wait, Tia! What's going on--OW!" She ran into a door that Tia had absently slammed shut as she went through. Without Jade. She thrust the door open and stormed over to Tia, who was sorting through a bunch of weapons. _"What . . . the hell . . . is going on here!"_ she demanded angrily.

"Uh . . . this kinda sucks, Jade." Tia ran a hand through her hair, messing it up. She swore, and readjusted it. "But, since you're a Sheikah, and the Sheikah are sworn to protect the Royal Family of Hyrule, we have to go to the castle."

"But _why, _Tee?"

"Well . . ." She picked up a heavy ax, weighed it in her palm, and tossed it to Jade. "How does this feel?"

_"Tee." _Jade said warningly.

"The Gerudo have declared war." She glanced up at Jade. "We have to be prepared to go into battle. All of us."

"But, Tee, the baby--"

"How do you know you're pregnant?" Tia asked.

"Well . . . it was mostly a lucky guess, okay? But . . . honestly, don't you think I know these things? It _is _my baby."

Tia shook her head. "You better hope you're not pregnant. Or that the baby's born before we need you. Otherwise, I don't think either of you will survive this war."

* * *

I cracked up so much editing this chapter. I'm not sure if it was funny or I was hyper. Oh well. All right, we are about to take a huge leap in time, after this chapter. Just be prepared. And review. 


	30. Hostilites

YAY!! All right, we've gone like later in the time . . . thing. And thus it's . . . a year later. I think I explain everything enough . . . ask me if you get confused. Oh, and I dedicate this chapter to . . . Jacob, because he's here. Killing people as Alexander the Great (who I also dedicate this chapter to). Btw, I would love to thank Jackie for the title name. It iddn't have one forever, until Jackie mentioned "Hostilities." We both started cracking up.

* * *

_Chapter Twenty_

**One year later . . .**

_She sat down at the window seat, her long, graceful fingers entwining with worry. She glanced out the window, and her pale blue eyes widened. Scenes of carnage and screams of agony made her flinch, and she slammed the open window shut. It did little to dull the noise. She put one hand to her chest. She was breathing hard, as if having run a hard race. "Where is he?" she murmured, pacing back and forth, blocking out the battle cries below . . . _

_Suddenly the world blew apart. The walls blasted inward in a shower of dust and smoke, and rocks rained down on her. She toppled backward and disappeared over the bed, out of sight . . . _

_Glowing red eyes came out from the darkness . . ._

_And a sudden, loud scream pierced through the room. _

Unaware of what she had seen or of its meaning, not knowing that this haunting dream was the first of many, Zelda, child of Daphnes, full of power though only a baby, awoke and began to cry.

* * *

_"Hyah!" _

_Clang. _Nabooru collapsed backward as her attack was blocked. The impact sent pain shuddering through her body. She leapt back, dodging the sword as it sliced inches off her uniform and nicked her hip. She gritted her teeth, and lunged forward.

_"Hyah!" _

_Clang. _

All right, she was pissed off.

Nabooru leaned back on one foot, then dropped to her knees--the blade whistling over her head--and grabbed her attacker's leg, pulling it toward her.

Her opponent didn't even flinch. It fell back and balanced on one hand, then drew its foot up to its chest, then kicked. Nabooru let go just in time to keep from going flying--but was kicked in the chin. Her lip split. Blood spurting from her cut, she glared up at it.

Her friend Tami came up from behind, slashing it with her scimitar. It ignored the blood pouring from its wound. It pulled out a gigantic hammer, and with a lazy swing sent Tami flying into the arena's wall.

Nabooru ducked to the left and raised her blade. It knocked one scimitar from her hand, then the other. Kicking them out of reach, it loomed over her. She scrambled backward as it raised its sword. She didn't have a prayer . . .

"Enough."

The monster dropped its arms and stood obediently at attention, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

Nabooru crawled into a kneeling position. She couldn't breathe. Her mood was ugly as she glared at the creature that had beaten her.

A strong hand hauled her to her feet. It stayed on her hip, even after she was steady.

"I'm standing fine, you know," she muttered angrily. The person holding her up laughed, and a male voice said, "You sure? You seemed dead on your feet a few minutes ago." There was a teasing tone in his voice. She shrugged away from him and glared defiantly.

"What are you talking about? Tami and I were fighting our asses off out there!" she said, offended.

"I know, I know." He stepped forward and put his hand on the monster's shoulder. "This thing's been nearly undefeated so far. No one except the whites can beat them!" He gazed lovingly at the death machines. They stood eight feet tall, and broad-shouldered, with narrow waists. Their arms swung, flexible as vines as thrice as strong, at their sides. As they watched, it leaned backward onto its hands, rested for a split second in a bridge, then, with a demonic shreik, flung its legs over its head and into the air. It landed twelve feet away on its hands, then spun around and lifted its arms off the ground. It whirled around and around, a blur, spinning on its head like a top. Finally it settled to a complete stop and sat up, tilting its head to the side unnaturally as it stared at Nabooru with pupiless, brilliantly sky blue eyes.

Ganondorf grinned maliciously. "The Hylians have only been winning this Goddesss-damned war because the Sheikah have been defending them. And anything we throw at them has been easily defeated. They're good, you have to admit--they might even be almost as good as we are. They can fight against speed and agility, or against size and strength. They're the perfect fighters. But this--this!" He gestured to the monster, his words coming out fast and hard. "They won't be able to stand against these! And with hundreds--or thousands--storming their fortress, they won't be able to stop it! Then it will be easy to destroy the Hylians! Then we will be the sole rulers of Hyrule." He glanced at Nabooru, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect. He looked just like a little kid. She looked away from him, away from the monsters, away from Tami, who had forced herself to her feet. She couldn't look at anything.

She couldn't believe it had been one year. One year since the first attack on their Fortress. After all the blood was cleared away, and after all the bodies had been put downstairs, Ganondorf had declared war on the Hylians. He'd said it calmly and clearly, and the uproar it had caused lasted for only a few minutes. The Gerudo had been expecting a war for years. The rest of that month had been preparing for battles and fighting battles and recovering from battles. They had grown weaker and more battered, but they weren't backing down. Ganondorf seemed convinced that they were certain to win, but Nabooru wasn't sure that was how he felt. The Gorons were on the Hylian's side (apparently the Gerudo had stolen from them a little too often), and the Sheikah and Hylians hated them. The Zoras were defending themselves, but would be more likely to fight with the Gerudo than with the Hylians. Ganondorf appeared to be in control, but she would have bet that he wasn't as cool as he looked.

But maybe she was wrong. Damn, Nabooru hated being wrong.

The thing was, Ganondorf wasn't the same person he'd been. The year of fighting had changed him. Toughened him. He cared less about Hylians, and sacrifices. He even seemed to care less about the people he loved. Victory was his only goal, and he'd do anything to reach it. Nabooru still followed him, his loyal servant. She had been promoted to Second in Command, but for how long could she stay by his side while slowly and steadily he moved farther from being the boy she knew? Farther from being human.

Ganondorf's voice was softer. "Nabooru," he said. She looked up, and he smiled tentatively; as he did, the old Ganondorf shone through. He hadn't left her for good. Not yet.

"Nabooru, if we can do this, if we can eliminate the Sheikah and the Hylians, and maybe even the Gorons unless they change sides, if we can _win this war, _that's a good thing. That's a great, amazing, wonderful thing. We'll be able to end our pathetic existence in the desert. We'll be able to live where we can be accepted. We won't be just stupid, evil savages, or rejects of the Hylians! This war could be the best thing that ever happened to us!"

"I get that, Your Highness," Nabooru said slowly. Ganondorf looked up at her when she used the formal wording, surprised. "But though the war could have great effects, no one really wants to do the battling. Right?" Ganondorf couldn't _really _like all this killing, could he?

But he stared at her, then turned and looked the other way, as if she hadn't spoken.

* * *

"You can put it down here. It isn't much farther." 

Demi helped Liz but down the bag of . . . something. He didn't really care enough to ask. Even after a year of being a pirate, he was still a little uncomfortable with Liz. She was just so aloof. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm buff." She held out her arm and made a muscle. It was practically as big as his.

Demi supposed Liz was pretty . . . in a really weird way. Her hair was cropped just under her chin, except for two huge bangs on either side that stuck out, then down, and hung in big stalactite-looking clumps around her shoulders. It was actually very cool, and it was flaming red. Her hair was partially covered by a hat that had a huge long brim and a low top (very Chineseish, for you non-Hylians). Her eyes were bright blue, and freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. "Such a little-kid face," she'd muttered to Demi when they'd first been formally introduced. She offset this by wearing a low-cut orange tank top with the last foot of fabric ripped off the bottom and tight blue jeans covered in paint, dye, chains and holes. Around her neck was a key on string. She wore on one arm a white glove that went up to mid-elbow, and her other arm was a tattoo. That's right. Not _had _a tattoo; the _entire_ _arm_ was a tattoo. The shoulder was completely black, grey, and purple, and all down her arm flames danced in red, orange, and yellow. She kept her fingernails painted black, and wore hot-pink bracelets on her fire-tattooed hand. She also had gigantic clunky work boots, two bandannas (one the traditional black pirate bandanna, another a blue-and-orange one) tied around her hips, and a bellybutton ring. She was the tallest pirate--she was taller than Demi by almost a head.

"What's the key for, anyway?" Demi asked nonchalantly, as if he didn't ask the same question every single day.

"Find me a lock and maybe the key'll fit. I don't remember, so back off!" she snarled. Which was the answer she gave every day.

"Why does that question bother you so much?"

"Because you ask it every Goddess-damned day!"

"I think there is a deep inner meaning hidden inside you, buried under conflicting emotions," Demi said with a completely straight face and a "concerned" expression. "In fact, I suggest the first thing you should do on the pathway to healing is to tell me what the key is for. Only that way will you put the painful situation past you, and begin on the road to a better life."

"I said I don't remember!"

"It's okay if it's embarrassing. Many of us--except me--have had several embarrassing situations in our lifetime. Perhaps that is the key to a broken heart that you keep locked up."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Agitated, she took off the necklace in question and began fiddling with it.

"I believe you are in denial. And denial is practically a confession, only opposite. So if this is the case--"

"It's not!"

"--then raise your right hand over your head."

Liz stood a few feet away from him, her arms crossed over her chest, glowering.

"All right, then. That may be a symbolic key for a secret you dare not tell--such as that you are madly in love with me--and you must keep it locked up."

She couldn't even speak. Her face grew steadily redder as she shot one mental dagger after another at him.

"If this is not not not not not not not not not not not true, then raise your left hand, wave it in a clockwise circle three times, then wave it in a counterclockwise circle seven times, then poke yourself in the forehead."

Liz looked confused, raised her hand half in the air, then dropped it to her side.

"Aha! I'm right! That was a quabillionth double negative! You have just proved your secret! I knew I'd outsmart you someday!" He leaned over and plucked the key out of her hand. "I'll need this as evidence of my all-reigning rightness."

"Give me that!"

Demi tried to keep it out of her reach, but then remembered she was taller than he was. "Damn." He clutched it in his fist and put his hands behind his back.

Liz was still frantically trying to recover her key, and Demi was laughing at her, when a loud thud made them both glance up.

Ty had her arms crossed over her chest, frowning. "Maria sent me to see if you're done yet," she said, rolling her eyes. "She was wondering what was taking so long."

"Liz was about to make an emotional breakthrough!" Demi said.

Ty sighed. "Thank Din we all missed it, then."

Demi wasn't quite sure what he thought about Ty. Sometimes she was really funny and a great person to have watching your back, the next she was giving him death glares and trying to shove him overboard and make it look like an accident.

She looked . . . well, Demi wasn't quite decided yet. Her long platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and mostly hidden by her bandanna. She had an ugly scar running from the far corner of her left eye to her upper lip, but her eyes were pale blue and beautiful. She was thin as a rod, with a button-up navy vest and an off-the-shoulder purple sleeveless shirt. Her pants went down to mid-shin, were tan and covered in mud, blood, and grass stains (where there was grass in the middle of the ocean, Demi had no clue).

Ty pulled out a dagger and began cleaning her fingernails. "Anyway, Maria says we're stopping in Calhova for something-or-other. I think she just wants to get off the boat."

Demi nodded, and followed her up to the deck.

Maria was standing in the center, disheveled but pretty much the same as she'd been a year ago. She grabbed the wooden steering wheel and twisted it frantically, sending the boat into a haphazard spiral.

"Maria. Are you all right?" He took her arm because she looked like she would fall over. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she had a frail, wispy appearance. He'd been sailing with her for an entire year, but she'd never done this before. She'd always been strong and brave. "What's wrong?"

Ty just groaned and rolled her eyes again. "Maria does this every few years or so," she explained. "It's like a midlife crisis, only she's twenty-two."

"Ugh," Maria groaned. "Why the hell did I ever become a pirate? Ya know, I could've been rich, and probably famous, and be married, and-"

"And be bored to death," Demi told her. She looked up at him sharply. "You wouldn't be happy living with those stuffy, vain types," he continued. "Instead you get the riches they have, and a hell of a lot more fun, right? What is it you always say? 'They had it coming to them, and why?'"

"'Because they're not pirates,'" Maria said softly.

"Exactly!"

Maria stood up. "That's right!" she exclaimed. "Pirates kick ass! Thank you, Demi. I always liked you."

He decided not to comment on that. She'd never really shown much affection toward him before.

Ty was leaning on the side of the ship, reading a small paperback book. Demi mirrored her position, and watched a little speck of land gradually grow closer.

"What're you reading?" he asked, turning his head to see the cover.

Ty drew it to her chest. "None of your business."

"What's it about?"

". . . Violence," she answered. He waited. "Romance. Death."

"Sounds good."

"It isn't. Liz said I had to read something or she'd chuck me out a porthole. I wish I'd picked something interesting." She rested on her forearms, staring straight ahead. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. "You've made quite an impression, haven't you?" she finally asked.

Demi smiled wryly. "Yeah. I do that."

"Annabelle calls it charisma."

"I didn't know Annabelle knew that big a word."

Ty laughed. "Neither did we."

"Liz's jaw hit the floor, didn't it?"

Ty nodded. "How old are you, kid?"

"Kid? I'm twenty!"

"I'm twenty-five. You're a kid."

Just then Liz bounded up the stairs, her arm in Annabelle's. Liz turned and saw Ty and Demi talking, and Maria acting all gung-ho and shouting orders to anyone standing nearby.

"Hey, lovebirds. Hi, Bluebeard," Liz chirped.

Ty didn't deem that remark worthy of a response.

Maria looked exasperated. "When are you going to give up on this stupid 'Bluebeard' shit? I'm not Bluebeard!"

"If you were Bluebeard, then you could--"

"I'm not!"

"But if you _were, _then you'd be feared by all! And you could have a super-cool evil laugh!"

"I don't want a super-cool evil laugh!"

Liz gasped loudly. "You did _not_ just say that!"

Before Maria could retort, one of the girls called down, "We have another ship coming up. They look mad."

"Pirates?" Maria asked.

"No. They're coming from the direction of Calhova."

"Great." Maria swore. "Now they'll sound an alarm."

"What should we do?" the girl shouted down.

Maria turned to Demi, Ty, Annabelle and Liz. "What do you think?"

There was a long silence.

"Hit 'em with stuff!" Liz said excitedly.

"Yeah!" Annabelle agreed, bouncing up and down. "This'll be so much fun!"

Maria sighed tiredly and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Ready the cannon," she ordered Demi.

He'd only done this once before, so he was clumsy getting everything to fit the way it was supposed to. When he was finally done, he gave Maria a quick wave.

On the other ship, archers were lined up, their bows ready.

"Fear our new pirate equipment that's better than your stupid arrows!" Maria shouted.

"You think your puny bullets can stop the undead!?" Liz added.

"What?" Everyone turned to look at her in confusion.

"I read that in a book," she explained. "Bullets are like these tiny cannonballs that rip big holes in people when shot of a metal thing. Kind of like a bow and arrow, only louder and bloodier."

"Undead?" Ty repeated. "You have books about the undead and I'm stuck reading this--"

A neat line of arrows sailed over their heads, landing at their feet. They all froze, then slowly lifted their heads to look at the other ship.

"That was a warning, pirates!" one of the men on the other ship shouted.

"Ah, screw you, you puffy-shirted-girly-man!" Ty yelled.

Demi lit the fuse, then shot the cannonball. It crashed into their ship, which began sinking.

"Ha! I did it! I am so awesome at shooting cannonballs! What now!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Hate to burst your bubble, Demi, but the ship is big, the cannonball's big, and we were already facing them," Maria informed him. "There really wasn't much _you_ did."

"Fine, then. Stomp all over my victory. I don't care."

And they sailed past the sinking wreckage of the ship.

A few hours later, when they were bored out of their minds, the ship landed in Calhova.

As they leapt from the ship, Demi noticed a girl with long blonde hair and a blue sundress bend down and pick up a three-year-old and carry her off across the sand.

And another girl with blonde hair and a little child flashed across Demi's mind. A girl he hadn't thought about in almost a year.

And someone who'd kept quiet for at least six months announced its presence.

_Remember me?

* * *

_

Daphnes slammed the door to the throne room and stormed out, scaring the two guards who were waiting outside.

What the hell was wrong with people?! Daphnes decided that the world was conspiring against him.

After an entire damn _year _of conferences and debates and pondering a question that appeared to have only one obvious answer, the Royal Council announced that the use of the Triforce was prohibited.

_Prohibited! _

He couldn't believe it! Who would decide that hey, we have a sacred relic that could save Hyrule; let's _not _use it and instead let it gather dust as we spiral into an increasingly more violent war! There's an idea!

The Council, he realized, must be stabbed repeatedly with toothbrushes until they learned to make non-Hyrule-destroying decisions.

He was so preoccupied that he tripped over his cape. "Damn cape," he muttered. "I hate this cape. Stupid people giving me the stupid cape and telling me to wear it. _No_ _one_ wears _capes_. _Die_, cape! _Die_!" He stomped over to a window, threw it open, ripped out his cape and balled it up, then threw it. It fell through the rain and landed on the ground ten feet below. "Good riddance," he said, and continued on his way.

A whole year, he thought bitterly. An entire year wasted.

_Well, not _wasted. He smiled as he came to his room. There were some things about the past year. Zelda married him. It was the best day of his life . . . almost. Soon after Zelda had a baby girl. _That_ was the best day of his life. He wanted to name her Zelda after the wonderful woman he married. Zelda . . . wasn't into the idea. She said, in her words, "My name is a crap name! People will tease her till she's 40! Or dead!" And he told her it was better then "Daphnes." To which she said, "Of course, Daphnes is a boy's name!" But Daphnes was set on calling her Zelda and did. This bugged the hell out of Zelda, because every time Daphnes was talking to the baby, she'd think he was talking to her. But she had no other names so it stuck. That was Daphnes' one and only victory. He savored it.

He opened the door to his room. Zelda was sitting up, cradling their daughter in her arms. She smiled benignly as he entered. She had grown noticeably more peaceful over the past year. It worried him; he wondered if she was out robbing graves or something while he was doing kingly stuff. She, of course, denied it. "I'm saving all that for when you can come with me to bail me out," she insisted with a wicked grin.

Zelda coolly took in his disheveled appearance and annoyed expression. "Good day?" she asked.

"Sort of," he muttered, not wanting to go into it. He changed the subject hurriedly. "What about you? Kill any nobles today?"

"Who told you!"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Seriously, anything interesting?"

"Of course! I had a thoroughly exciting sewing lesson, and then a riveting conversation with your mother about . . . something, and _then . . ."_

Daphnes sighed. "I hate seeing you like this."

"Like what?"

"All bored and depressed."

"Hey! I am _not _depresssed--"

"But you're bored?"

"_Or _bored! This isn't how most of my life has been, but Daphnes, I'm _happy." _

Suddenly there were shouts and commotion from the floor below. Daphnes stepped to the door and opened it. Peering around the corner, he murmured thoughtfully, "I don't see anything."

"Come on," Zelda said decisively. She took his arm, squeezing his hand gently. "Seems like something interesting's happening out there. Let's go see what it is."

* * *

"All right, here's the plan," Nabooru told Jessa, picking up a piece of bread and a scroll. "I've got the instructions from Ganondorf. He says on no uncertain terms are we to get ourselves killed, maimed, or in any way endangered." 

"There are so few of us," Jessa agreed solemnly.

Their numbers had decreased dramatically, from a few hundred to barely 100. And it appeared the population would keep dropping unless they won the war. "Which is why we have our plan," Nabooru reminded her friend, shaking a scroll at her. "And it's my job to remind you of your duties, so shut up and listen."

"Aye, aye, O Great One," Jessa said with a laugh. She picked up a scimitar and began twirling it idly. "Ask, and I shall perform, Second in Command."

Nabooru ignored the jab and scanned the parchment. "Okay, so I'll let them capture me, and you give me the bread, and . . . we work from there, and get out alive."

"Um . . . is that your whole plan?" Jessa asked, leaning over the paper.

"Yes." Nabooru glared defiantly, clutching the paper to her chest. "It's foolproof. Now, give me my knife." She caught the knife in one hand and deftly held it between her thumb and forefinger, lifting up the loaf of bread in the other hand. "Hmm . . ." she pondered. She turned the bread over three times, then suddenly slammed the knife into the loaf. She then took out her scimitar and cut several gashes in the bread, to about midway down. She eyed it approvingly. "Beautiful, don't you think?"

"Lovely. The most beautiful knife in bread I've ever seen."

"Cut the sarcasm. I _am _Second in Command, you know."

"All-righty-roo."

They began walking in the direction of Hyrule. Nabooru tied her hair up in a ribbon as they walked, swinging her scimitars carelessly. Jessa, on the other hand, pulled on a cloak, wrapping it around herself and pulling the hood over her head. "Are we in their territory yet?" she hissed, tripping over her long purple robe.

"Almost . . . just over that ridge . . ." They came into Hyrule Field, where a girl with red hair and a bandage around her waist was carrying buckets of water. "Now. Scream," Nabooru instructed.

Jessa began screaming bloody murder, shouting and wailing and stumbling away from Nabooru as fast as she could. The girl with the red hair glanced up, and when she saw Nabooru, who was waving her sword and yelling, her mouth dropped. She scrambled to her feet and ran to a large bell hanging near the entrance to the ranch.

When the bell's _bong _rang out, Nabooru almost fell over. Gritting her teeth against the goddess-awful noise, she rushed at the farm girl.

It only took five minutes of her making a fool of herself (because she couldn't actually TAKE anything, she just had to fake it) before the Hylian guards came out to investigate. The second they saw Nabooru, they ran up to her and took her by the arms.

"You," one of the Hylian guards said to another, "disarm her."

The guard took everything she had, besides her clothes (they even took her shoes, considering it a weapon) and were just about to haul her away when Jessa ran toward them, disguised as a Hylian. She wordlessly handed Nabooru the bread. Nabooru reluctantly took it, hoping her face looked appropriately disgusted at being offered something by a _Hylian_.

As the guards hauled her back to the Castle, Nabooru almost laughed out loud. They didn't even consider that this was a trap! _Idiots_.

Now, if she could only figure out how to get the knife out of the bread . . .

She was thrown into a dungeon cell that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. Luckily, it was empty.

"You! Gerudo!" a guard barked at her. "You will stay here while we inform the king of your presence. Then you will--possibly--have a trial, in which your fate will be decided."

Nabooru spat at him. It was quite fun, actually.

He just wiped it off, revolted. "Filthy Gerudo," he muttered, then stormed away. She fell to her knees the second he was gone, digging through the bread frantically. "Knife . . . knife . . ." she murmured. "Yes!" Pulling it out, she slipped it into her back pocket just as the guards were returning. She kicked the mangled loaf into the back corner of the cell.

"Where's the bread?" the guard asked in surprise.

"I . . . ate it."

"Ate it?" this guard turned to his friends with a smirk. "You didn't think it was poisoned?"

_No, dumb-ass, it was MY bread! _But saying that would have made her job that much harder, so she held her head high and said, "It was bread from an old woman. I don't know about you, but there aren't many crones in the Fortress that go around randomly poisoning bread. Shall we go?"

Annoyed at being outsmarted, they dragged her to the throne room. The King was perched on a throne made of gold and velvet. Next to him was the queen. Nabooru wondered where the prince and princess were. Would she have to go searching the entire castle for them?

Oh, well. It didn't matter. She could get them later.

"Gerudo," the King asked. His voice was polite, but demanding. Nabooru was positive he was congratulating himself on being fair to the stupid Gerudo. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Yes." Where was Jessa? This was clearly a public trial, and it seemed every person in Hyrule had come to watch. Jessa was . . . there! Right behind the queen.

"You have entered our land without our permission, have accosted a Hylian and stolen some of her property--"

"No I didn't! I specifically did not do that!"

"--Have spoken back to the King of Hyrule, _lied _to the King of Hyrule . . . in just a short amount of time, you have caused quite an uproar. And I'm afraid the only sentence deserving of such heinous crimes . . ."

"What the hell's a heinous?" It sounded like a sneeze.

The King sat in his throne, staring down at Nabooru with serious, sad eyes. Nabooru was confused, but not interested enough to ask why he was staring at her. Maybe he was pervert.

"I am very sorry, young Gerudo."

"What?" She snapped back to reality. "Oh, sure. Yay and all that. I totally agree."

He sighed, a long, depressed sigh. Nabooru rolled her eyes. What was up wth these people? They were all sitting around, looking anxious. Seriously. They needed to get a life.

"The only sentence I can give you . . ." He paused dramatically again. "Is death."

Everyone gasped. Except Nabooru. "Well, duh, I knew that," she told him. That was all they sentenced Gerudo with. Were people really that surprised? How gullible could you be?

"Death . . . by beheading." The King sat back, folding his hands over his stomach. "You may . . ." He gestured to the guards.

Two guards (the only two guards in the room, in fact) lunged forward and grabbed her arms. She looked from one to the other. "Well this is inconvient."

She needed a plan. _A plan . . . a plan . . . _she thought. _I know! Improvise! _

Strangely enough, most of her plans were "Improvise!"

The knife was still in her back pocket. She allowed the guards to drag her about two feet before she stopped. She kicked backwards, brought her foot up to her back pocket (because Gerudo are mad flexible), and plucked the knife from her pocket. She swung her leg forward and tossed the knife in the air (with her toes. Gerudo also have mad skills with their toes), and caught it in her mouth.

The guards gaped in shock. This wasn't just a Gerudo prisoner; this was an _armed_ Gerudo prisoner. But when one of them tried to grab the knife, Nabooru slashed his arm with it. He yelped and dropped her arm. She took the knife in her freed hand, whirled around, and stabbed the other guard. As he fell, she took his sword, spun around again, and decapitated the slashed-arm man, who was coming at her.

She suddenly remembered why they were there. It wasn't just to kick some serious Hylian ass.

She sprinted at the King, and before he could call in more guards, she stabbed him. Blood gushed over her fingers, and she ripped out the knife. He clutched his chest weakly, and she sliced off his head. The force of her attack sent the head flying off his shoulders, into the queen's lap.

Her horrified scream could have been heard in Termina. She leapt to her feet and started to run toward the exit. Jessa (aka the bread lady) flung an arm around the queen's waist, dragging her back toward the throne. She slammed the poor queen back into her chair.

Before she could get up again, Nabooru threw the knife. It hit her throat, point-blank. Nabooru shook her head in disgust and picked up her old weapons, which were lying on the floor. Slinging her scimitars over her back, she looked around. Hylians were running in circles, screaming, and basically acting like idiots.

Jessa ran up and seized Nabooru's hand, dragging her along toward the exit. "Come on, Second in Command!" she shouted teasingly. "The guards are coming!"

She nodded, and they took off running, bursting through the door and shoving past a young man and woman, who were just about to enter. Suddenly something clicked.

"Shit! That's the prince! I'm supposed to kill him!"

Jessa sighed, and continued pulling her away from the guards.

* * *

Zelda followed Daphnes to the throne room. He'd stopped a young maid in the hallway and asked what the commotion was about. 

"Someone caught a Gerudo?" Zelda asked Daphnes, having to hurry to keep up.

"Yeah. It doesn't make sense, though . . ."

"It doesn't?"

"No. The Gerudo don't just get 'caught.' I've seen them in the Market, when I was a kid. One of them got in a fight with another . . . It was the scariest thing I've ever seen. Awesome, but really frightening." He sighed. "That's one of the reasons I never wanted us to go to war with them."

"I still think you could've told your dad . . ."

"'Only Kings can end wars,'" he quoted bitterly. "'And you are not yet a King.'"

"But--"

Suddenly they heard a scream. "Shi--damn."

"'Shi-damn?'" Zelda repeated with a laugh.

"Yeah. Princes don't swear."

"'Damn' _is_ a swear, moron!"

"Princesses don't call people morons."

"_This _one does."

They were interrupted from their pointless bickering (though they weren't really angry with each other--they were sickeningly cute like that) as the doors to the throne room slammed open and two girls ran out. One was clearly Gerudo--she had long red hair and scimitars, and she was being chased by several guards. The other girl was wearing a purple cloak, and was dragging the Gerudo by the wrist. Daphnes wondered who that was. He could hear screaming from inside the throne room, but he didn't move.

Suddenly the Gerudo stopped. She whirled around to face him. "Shit!" she yelled. "That's the prince! I have to kill him!"

All the color drained out of Daphnes' face. He felt as if, had he looked down, he's see a big puddle the exact color of his skin. A puddle of Daphnes.

Kill _him? _Why?

_Dammit, Daphnes. What have you done this time? _his mental voice chided.

The girl in the cloak turned and grabbed the Gerudo's arm again. Her hood fell down, and it was obvious that this one was a Gerudo, too.

Zelda squeezed his arm. Hard. "We have to get them!" she hissed.

He couldn't move. He was sort of . . . loopy. Someone had just made a threat on his life. He hadn't felt this out of it in over a year.

The Gerudo vanished around a corner. Daphnes stared after them for a while. Then he turned slowly to Zelda.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked.

* * *

Man, I'm feeling good about my story. It's like it's a giant ball rolling down a hill, and now it's speeding up. It's exhilarating. Demi is cracking me up, as per usual. So is Nabooru. "What the hell's a heinous?" Hahahahaha. Well, luv ya, bye. 

P.s. Hopefully someone has noticed that Demi and Daphnes' characters are kinda similar. I think that's why Zelda likes them. Just interesting.

P.p.s. Amanda, review this or I will cheerfully beat you to death.


	31. Welcome to Hell

Again, apologies for the strange chapter name. This one just makes Hyrule seem a wee bit . . . hellish. ha ha. I dedicate this to whoever created Because, without it, where would we write about all our obsessions?

_

* * *

_

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_Remember me?_

Demi couldn't answer. His brain was screaming at him.

Zelda . . . the thought of her was almost painful. How could he have just forgotten about her?

Images, memories of Zelda danced around his brain. His stomach was a knot of lead. **How the hell could I have forgotten? I mean, it's _Zelda! _How could I . . . how . . . I can't . . .**

_Demi, stop. You're being an idiot._

**But I _forgot _her! It was as if she didn't exist!**

_And that's why I woke you up, in a manner of speaking. You can go find her again._

Demi was still breathing hard. It was difficult to get air into his lungs. He couldn't see anything.

He concentrated on the Dark Triforce's "voice." It was comforting.

**Why do you suddenly care about her?**

_She's . . . done something, and it pertains to the Triforce. Actually, three "somethings" influenced this decision. Anyway, the time is perfect for a trip to Hyrule. This way, you can accomplish your goals, and I can accomplish mine._

**What did she do?**

_That's not important right now. Anyway, you'll understand when you . . . you'll understand._

"Um, sir? Sir, are you all right?"

He looked up to see the blonde girl leaning over him. She was really tall . . . no, he was crouching on the ground, clutching his head like a crazy person.

"Uh . . ." How could he answer that?

"I'll go call the town doctor. He's my father."

"No! Wait, I'm fine!" He was still on the ground, and still clutching his hair. His eyes were wide and he was trembling. He doubted he looked fine.

She stopped. "Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah. Just . . . go. I'll be fine. Just go."

She shrugged, but walked away.

He let out a sigh, and pushed himself to his feet. **Hyrule, huh? **he asked resignedly.

All the other pirates had run off, doing the "piratey thing." He picked up his new sword (he'd stolen it from their second trip to Penign) and began walking in the direction of the forest. There didn't look like there'd be any people there, and he could talk to the Dark Triforce without looking insane.

Once he was safely under the cover of the trees, he asked, "How do you know that . . . something's happened in Hyrule?"

_I know lots of things._

"Yeah . . . like what?"

_Like I'm not telling you._

"That's not fair! We _do_ share the same body, you know."

_So?_

"So . . . you should tell me."

_I_ should _. . . No._

"That's not a good sign."

_Do you have a plan yet?_

"I don't need a plan! I can figure out something."

_That's not a very good moral._

"Who says we need a moral?"

_Someday our actions may be documented. Children will read this, and they will need to get a moral out of this story. And, apparently, if they are watching you, the moral will be, "Drink and swear and become a pirate and sleep with random strangers and go after your girlfriend in a strange country and then forget about her."_

"Who said I was a nice person?"

_Well, I'm sure someone out there will fall in love with you. There are always those people who fall in love with the idiots._

"I'm not . . ." Demi trailed off (and for a good reason, since he wasn't totally sure what the Dark Triforce was talking about). In his extremely strange conversation, he'd ended up coming to a large farm house. Inside, he could see Annabelle and Ty searching through the house. They couldn't see him, but it made him realize something.

"What am I supposed to tell the pirates?"

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oh, you're asking me? Don't tell them anything. Just leave._

"I can't just walk out on them!" He thought for a while. "Maybe I'll leave a note."

_Notes are for sissies._

"You don't like that idea?"

_Not at all._

"Then I know it's perfect." He pulled out a scrap piece of paper and a pencil. Pencils were rare, so he had kept it instead of turning it over to Maria.

He thought for a minute, then began to write.

_**Uh, hi, you guys.**_

_**Listen, something came up, and I have to leave. Don't look for me; you won't find me, and I wouldn't come back if you did.**_

_**I would have told you, but you wouldn't have let me leave. I have to go.**_

_**I loved being a pirate, and I'd never dream of ditching you if I didn't have to.**_

_**--Demi**_

_Wasn't that sweet. Now let's go!_

"How long do you think it'll take to get to Hyrule?" Demi asked as he walked over to the docks.

_What am I, a clock? Hmm . . . a few hours._

Demi didn't bother thanking him. The Dark Triforce was pissing him off, and he'd never liked it. It deserved the silent treatment for a while.

He picked out a boat. They were all old and rickety, and they could only hold two people.

That was fine by him. He picked out the one that was falling apart the least, and cut the tether that held it to the dock.

_Come sail away, come sail away, come sail away with me! _The Dark Triforce was in a good mood, singing some random song.

**Shut up. **Demi . . . was in a crappy mood. How could he have forgotten Zelda!

_I'm sailing away . . . _

**SHUT UP!

* * *

**

"Oh, man, you should've seen her! She was awesome!" Jessa gushed.

"Aw, stop it, Jessa." Nabooru pretended to look embarrassed.

Jessa, Nabooru, Tami, and Amalyse were all sitting on Nabooru's bed. Jessa was filling them in on the mission, and, even though no one acted as if they'd noticed her absence, everyone felt slightly awkward that Krysu wasn't there.

"But she was fighting like a madwoman! She killed the King, Queen and random guards! She wanted to kill the Prince and Princess, too, but I was like, 'Dude, there are three million guards after us, run!' But she would've gone after them all, if she could've!"

"Thanks, Jessa, that makes me look real good," Nabooru drawled sarcastically.

"But you were!"

"I _was_ amazing, wasn't I?" She fanned herself, then laughed. Ever since Krysu had left, Nabooru had tried to keep a lid on her vanity. But every once in a while, she had to agree that she was awesome.

Tami shoved her. "Ugh, shut up Jessa!" she said in mock annoyance. "You're gonna give Miss Ego over here an ever bigger head!"

Nabooru smacked her over the head with a pillow.

"OW!" Tami complained. "What do you have in there, rocks?"

" Um, Nabooru?" Aveni stood at her doorway.

She quickly dropped the pillow and sat up straight. "Yes?"

"The King would like to see you."

"Ganondorf? Awesome!" Nabooru stood up. She turned to her friends, who were all looking up at her pleadingly. She sighed. "You can stay, as long as you don't mess everything up." As Second in Command, Nabooru's room was nicer than the other girls'.

As she stepped into the hall, Amalyse called, "Nabby loves Gan-Gan!"

"Ooh!" And they all began chanting it.

"You wouldn't say that to his face, would you?" Nabooru asked.

"Maybe we would!" Jessa said hotly. They always had a lot more confidence when Ganondorf wasn't around.

"Then go ahead." She stepped out of the doorway and Ganondorf leaned in. He waved.

"You . . . you . . ." The girls all turned pink and began stammering. Nabooru had seen Ganondor the second she'd stepped into the hall. He'd come to see her; she'd just assumed she'd have to go to him.

"I need to talk to you," Ganondorf said, turning to her. His expression was immediately serious.

"I figured," she responded guardedly. She had a feeling she wouldn't like whatever this news was.

"We have to go to battle."

"Again."

"Yes. Apparently you've angered the Hylians with your mission."

"Which I accomplished."

"I know. Jessa gave me the details." He crossed his arms, all business. "I need you to get all the girls in your age group and bring them to Krysu. She'll take them from there. Then I need to see you in my room. We have some things to discuss."

"Ganondorf," Aveni said, "Nabooru just got back an hour ago. Can't she rest--"

"She'll get over it," Ganondorf replied shortly. He gave her a tense smile, then strode away.

Nabooru sighed, and Aveni seemed to sense what was wrong. "He _does_ care about you," she told her. "He's just not very good at showing his affections, Nabooru. It can't be helped."

"Yeah, whatever," Nabooru replied in a monotone. She turned and grabbed her friends, along with the other three girls in their age group, and brought them all the Krysu. Krysu was the Combat Leader, which meant that she was in charge of training and everything related to fighting. That also meant that she was the third best fighter in the race.

The Gerudo heirarchy went something like this:

King (rules all)

Second in Command (In charge of all things related to the King or running the Gerudo (a mini-King, almost), helps out whenever needed)

Combat Leader

Elders (all those old farts)

Younger Generation

Nabooru (or Nabby) knocked on Ganondorf's door, feeling depressed and slightly betrayed. Life had gotten so weird lately.

Ganondorf opened the door and ushered her in. No smile, no hello.

Correction: _Ganondorf _had been so weird lately.

Inside, maps and diagrams were spread out all over a table. He pointed to one, sitting down. "What do you think?" he asked.

"Um . . ." Nabooru began, but was cut off.

"Ganondorf!" Koume and Kotake burst into the room.

"What . . .?!" he asked weakly, and practically fell out of his chair. Then he stood, and his expression grew angry. "How the hell did you get in here!?" he demanded.

Kotake laughed, and her red-orange eyes glittered disturbingly. "We've always been able to get into these walls," she said. "We just choose not to . . . sometimes."

Ganondorf stared at her for a second, then shook his head to clear it. He'd cut his hair so that it was short in the back, and longer in the front. It looked good, but . . . Nabooru couldn't play with it anymore (maybe that was why he'd cut it). "Anyway . . . _why _are you here?"

"We have a proposition," Kotake said.

"A what?" Nabooru asked. Koume put hand on her shoulder, and the room began to spin. She was suddenly dizzy, and the room got really cold, filling with white fog. She began shivering, hugging herself to keep warm.

"Just go to sleep, dear." Koume's voice was warm and comforting. The fog was really thick. It hurt her eyes, so she closed them. It was clearly still cold--she could feel herself shuddering and gasping harder than ever--but she felt comfortable. She had no clue how long she stood like that.

"Hey! Stop that!" Koume's freezing hand was removed from her shoulder, and the mist faded. Nabooru kept her eyes closed, but she could feel it receding. Slowly she began to stop shaking. She looked up, and unconciously pulled her hair out of her ponytail; a nervous habit. She kept it in a ponytail for conveinence (Ganondorf had won that battle), but hated how "ordinary" she looked with it up.

Ganondorf gently helped Nabooru into a chair. Her hands were shaking, but otherwise she was fine. He glared in the direction of Koume and Kotake. "Get out," he said.

"But do we have a deal?" Kotake asked.

"Yeah, we do," he muttered grudgingly.

"Then may I?" Kotake didn't wait for an answer. She stepped forward and placed her hand on Ganondorf's forehead. His eyes closed. "Aah!" His knees buckled, and he staggered forward with a cry of pain. Kotake let go immediately, and knelt down next to her "son."

"It's done," she told him. "It will last until you give the order. We'll be waiting."

"Wait!" Koume said. She pointed a long finger at Nabooru. "Shouldn't we . . ."

"OH! Yes, we should." Kotake stepped forward and placed her hand on Nabooru's forehead. Heat began pulsing through her body, growing warm . . . warmer . . . warmer . . . It was getting painfully hot. Red filled her vision. Nabooru squeezed her eyes shut, wincing at the heat that wouldn't let up. She was baking alive!

"Wait . . ." Ganondorf began, stepping forward. "I don't want--"

Nabooru bucked forward, screaming as a blast of white-hot electricity slammed through her. She caught herself on a table she couldn't see. The second she hit it, the heat disappeared, and so did the red. She was breathing hard, but forced herself to her feet.

Koume and Kotake were huddled against a wall, clutching each other and gaping in terror at Ganondorf. He was towering over them, and his expression was murderous. A purple electricity danced across his fingertips, and there was fire in his eyes.

If Nabooru was in Koume and Kotake's position, she'd be scared, too.

"Give me one good reason," Ganondorf said in a dangerously low voice, "one good reason why I shouldn't kill you both right now."

"B-B-Because!" Kotake blurted out desperately. "We can help you harness your magic! You're not yet ready! We can get you there!"

"Yes!" Koume chimed in. "Just give us . . . some time . . . and we'll train you!"

Ganondorf glanced at Nabooru. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. I . . . I am." She swallowed, wincing as her throat screamed in protest. It was dry and rough as sandpaper.

He kept his gaze on her. "And what would you like me to do?"

"I don't know."

"Would you like me to wipe them off the face of this earth?"

She hesitated. This was the Ganondorf that frightened her. "N-no, I wouldn't."

He sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Then he turned and faced the witches. "You're very lucky," he imformed them, crossing his arms. "If it were up to me, I'd get rid of you here and now. But . . . I won't."

Koume and Kotake sighed in relief. "We'll be listening," they said quickly, and left.

Ganondorf rested his chin on his face, gazing morsely out the window. "How did this happen?" he murmured, lost in his thoughts.

Nabooru cleared her throat. "Um . . . what was it that they did to me? Do I have superpowers or something?"

"I . . . don't think so." His voice was strained.

"Well, then." She crossed her arms and looked up at him. "What _do _you think?"

"I think they've done to you what they did to me." He sounded different; angry and resentful.

"Which is?"

"Created a telepathy link. Between you, me, and Kotake, if I'm not mistaken."

Nabooru doubted he was mistaken. "Why?"

"I don't know! Why would they possibly want to create a link with you? What purpose could it serve?"

She didn't know how to answer him.

* * *

_Thirty minutes later_

"Aagh . . ." The Hylian Nabooru had been fighting collapsed. She leapt over him, driving her sword deep into the spine of another.

Garbled, confused visions whirled past her as she ducked, swung, blocked, and countered the endless attacks she'd faced. Screams of pain, hatred, and triumph mixed in with grunts and moans of those fighting and those lying wounded at their feet. It was a long, wordless roar. Smoke stung her nostrils and made her eyes water, but she ignored it, along with the ache in her muscles.

Methodically, mechanically, she incapacitated Hylian after Hylian. She didn't even stop to get a good look at them. She didn't throw her normal enthusiasm into the battle. There wasn't time. They had to kill the Hylians, and they had to kill them _as quickly as possible, _before even more Gerudo died.

But that wasn't to say that she was unscathed. She had a multiple of cuts all over herself. There was a nasty one on her arm, that she was completely ignoring, probably making it worse with each swing she made. Her body ached from fighting for so long as well. She pushed on, knowing if she didn't, she would die. She willed her spirit to push her muscles as she decapitated another victim. The next Hylian blocked her attack and pushed her arm away. She quickly recovered by spinning around and slicing her sword though his stomach.

"Watch out! Goron!" The voice was faint and hard to hear with all the other noise.

"What?" Where? She was pracically knocked off her feet by a deafening boom as what appeared to be a large boulder with spikes crashed into a few unlikey monsters that Ganondorf had somehow come upon. Nabooru had just enough time to get out of the way.

The Goron unrolled itself, weilding a large battle hammer. It bellowed a loud low cry at Nabooru.

Great.

This was going to hurt.

The Goron charged at her.

Nabooru closed her eyes, and held out her scimitars. _Maybe the Goron will just run into them_, she thought hopefully, but she knew that the Goron's hide was too thick for that. It was also probably a little smarter than that. Damn.

BAM!

Nabooru was knocked sideways as someone ran into her.

"What the hell's your problem!" screamed Krysu.

"What the hell's _your_ problem!? Usually people on the same side of a war don't attack each other!"

"I just saved your Goddess-damned life!"

"I have everything under control!" Nabooru quickly fended off a Hylian getting too close to them.

"Of course! You're Second in Comand after all!" Krysu defended Nabooru's back. "You got everything you wanted, didn't you?" That last remark was soft, barely more than a whisper. "You must be so happy."

"I'd be happy if I was in bed right now," grumbled Nabooru.

"And had something warm to eat," Krysu added, her tone almost dreamy as she sliced a Hylian in half.

"Something cold to drink."

"A bath."

"Oh, yeah. With those bubbles."

"Everyone waiting on you hand and foot."

They bantered back and forth, fending off Gorons and Hylians.

"Look out!" Krysu shouted.

"What?" Nabooru whirled around, gaping in horror at the Goron that loomed over her. "Oh. Thanks." She raised her scimitars, ready to fight. But, quicker than she thought possible, the Goron had sent one sword flying out of her hand, grabbed her foot, and lifted her into the air. He raised his own sword, and Nabooru began trying to stab at it wildly with her one scimitar. Unfortunately, he held her just out of reach.

Krysu had crept around to the back of the Goron, and was facing her. Nabooru suddenly realized what Krysu was about to do.

"No!" she cried out, but it was too late.

Krysu leapt into the air and landed straddling the Goron around the neck, her scimitars poised about his head. With a battle cry, she slammed them in--and through--the Goron's head, splattering everyone within a ten-foot radius with Goron blood.

The hand that was holding her foot suddenly collapsed, and Nabooru had to twist around and crack her back to avoid landing on _her _head.

"Yeah, Krysu!" Nabooru called, wrenching her foot from the Goron's hand and grabbing her other scimitar. "That was actually pretty cool." She didn't mind admitting it, now that she was guaranteed a better spot (on the Gerudo heirarchy) than Krysu.

Krysu was climbing off the dead Goron, grinning. "I know," she said with a laugh. "That's why I'm Combat Leader, of course."

"Yeah, yeah." Nabooru lobbed a knife to her. "Here." It was a very pretty knife, gilded with gold, silver and rubies. Basically useless, but cool. Krysu pocketed it.

Suddenly they heard a roar. A Goron leapt out of nowhere and grabbed Krysu around the waist. Nabooru tried to stab it in the foot, but it didn't stop the Goron. It was armed with a hammer, and it held Krysu by the neck. With a furious grunt, it slammed the hammer into Krysu. Then he dropped her, looking down with a peculiar expression on its face.

Nabooru ran and half-caught Krysu before she hit the ground. The second she glanced at her, Nabooru could tell it wasn't looking good. Blood gushed out of Krysu's mouth, and ribs, arm bones, and random other bones were poking out the skin, gleaming unnaturally white where they weren't doused in blood. Even placing her hand on Krysu's chest, she could feel that all those organs and things weren't right.

Krysu was breathing shallowly, even though she was obviously struggling to get enough air in her probably ripped lungs.

"Krysu." Nabooru didn't have enough energy to say more than her name. There wasn't anything she could do, either.

"Nabooru . . . I . . ." Krysu suddenly gasped, clutching her chest. "Ow," she moaned, sqeezing her eyes shut and breathing deeply. When she opened them, Nabooru could blood beginning to fill them. "I . . . I'm sorry. About everything . . . You weren't that big a . . . pain in the ass. You just . . . had everything. And you knew it. It . . . doesn't matter. I . . . never hated you."

Nabooru was pretty much floored. "Uh . . . thanks?"

Krysu laughed weakly. "You suck at this, don't you?"

"Sorry. It's my first time."

They smiled. That was as close as they'd get to heartfelt confessions.

"Go," Krysu instructed. "Get out of here. Kill some Hylians for me."

"Of . . ." Nabooru swallowed. "Of course." She stood and backed away, biting her lip. She kept a close eye out for any attackers, but it seemed like there was a barrier around her. No one approached.

THUD. She backed into the Goron who'd killed Krysu. She glared up at him angrily. "Gonna kill me now?" she asked bitterly.

It still had that strange expression on its face. "No. A friend for a friend. Now we're even." Then it turned and walked away.

Nabooru raised an eyebrow. Strangely enough, that made sense. To her, at least.

She sighed heavily and forced her aching muscles into action, fighting with anyone who attacked.

This was war, after all.

* * *

Ganondorf killed another Hylian, sending his head flying ten feet away. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Nabooru fight until her enemy was no longer a threat, then move on. Sometimes the Hylians were dead, but just as often they weren't. Her battling seemed to have no emotion. 

Unlike his, where every move was full of anger and feeling.

Something made him freeze. Something . . . in his head.

_"Ganondorf." _It was Kotake. _"Are you ready?"_

The only creatures they were fighting were Hylians and Gorons. The Zoras were probably guarding their precious river, and the Sheikah were off . . . doing something. Just as he'd expected.

_"Yes," _he told her. _"Send them out."_

He thought proudly of the amazing fighting machines waiting back at the Fortress. In this battle they would have dominated. But they were needed somewhere else.

Ganondorf glanced down to see a Hylian moaning on the ground in front of him, clutching a bloody, mangled arm. He looked up at Ganondorf pleadingly.

The King of the Gerudo sighed, then stared straight ahead. Slowly he lifted his sword, and smashed it, point down, into the Hylian's skull.

He felt no remorse.

It _was _a war, after all.

* * *

Demi gently steered his little boat into a stream. 

_This will lead you into Lake Hylia, Hyrule's one and only lake, _The Dark Triforce told him. _You're almost there._

"What will I find?" Demi asked.

The Dark Triforce hesitated. It made Demi nervous.

_You'll find big fields, castles, little towns, rivers, mountains, water, and desert. It's a very mixed-up place, full of different races. You'll like it. It should be very nice this time of year._

"Okay." He shrugged, and made his way down the stream. It suddenly opened up into a huge lake. It was glittering in the sun, and was surrounded by trees and green grass. It was very peaceful. He could picture Zelda here.

But . . . there was something disturbing. Some sounds that he couldn't place.

He didn't have time to figure it out because a big . . . thing leaped out of the water, landing ON HIS BOAT! It was blue, and had a tail growing out of the back of its head. It had gills, but lungs, apparently, too. It was male, and naked (island folk have trouble dealing with this. Hylians, Sheikah, etc. have no such issues). He was also carrying a big, fat spear that looked quite capable of running Demi through.

He glared at Demi. "No Hylians are allowed in the Zora's waters," he said.

"Uh . . . I'm just passing through! If you'll just let me get across--"

Two other Zoras (at least, he assumed they were Zoras) grabbed either side of the boat and pulled. Being a rundown, waterlogged piece of crap, the boat broke apart with a _snap!_ Demi was thrown into the water. He began paddling frantically toward shore, but a Zora grabbed his foot, pulling him down into the dark water. He kicked out, and his foot connected with something solid. The hand on his ankle released him, and he began swimming upward. His head broke the surface, and he rested for a moment to catch his breath.

Apparently it took less than a moment for the Zoras to resume their attack. The two Zoras each grabbed an arm and pulled him down into the water. Two others grabbed his feet, and he couldn't move.

_There are six, _the Dark Triforce said.

**That doesn't help me! **Demi pointed out, really needing to breathe.

_Where're the other two?_

**I don't know! Maybe they're making pancakes! **Demi was feeling lightheaded and dizzy from the lack of air, and realized he was ceasing to make sense.

Suddenly the fifth Zora rushed forward. He was only a blob in the dim water, but Demi didn't exactly care. He closed his eyes, feeling sleepy.

The hands on his arms and legs were gone. Demi didn't have enough energy to swim to the surface.

Water rushed past him at a startling speed, and he opened his eyes in shock. The two Zoras had grabbed his hands and were dragging him upward. The surface was growing closer . . .

Demi gasped for air, staring up at the sky, the sun, the trees, the grass. Everything was light and beautiful compared to the dank, dark underwater prison.

The Zoras hooked their arms around Demi's waist and towed him to shore.

"Th--" He coughed, and had to start again. "Thank you." He looked up at them in surprise.

They were both thinner and lankier than the others. They had just as much muscle, but it was sleeker and less bulky. One had a string of shells around his neck, and the other had a bright yellow tail. Other than that, they were identical to the Zoras who'd attacked him.

"Stranger," the one with the seashell necklace said in a musical voice, "you are not safe in the water. I wish I could guarantee your safety. Had you visited a year earlier, I could have." He looked morosely in at a hill with a wall. "If you are looking for safety, I suggest you get to one of the villages nearby. The people there will keep you safe."

"But dude," the yellow-tailed one added, "don't go that way." He pointed to the left of the wall. "The people there will kill you. Literally."

"Follow the forest, and stay out of the water. Now, I'm sorry, but I must leave. I can't be in air this dry." With a wave, they both dove back into the lake.

Demi pushed his hair out of his eyes (it had gotten really long, almost to his collarbone, and very curly), and made his way up the hill, staying to the right of the wall.

The strange noises grew louder, until he recognized them as screaming. He began to run. Who was screaming? How many people were up there?

What was up with this place?

He stepped around the wall and immediately hid behind it again.

Blood soaked the ground, which was littered with bodies. Monsters and women with red hair were attacking normal-looking men and big rock-people.

It was an all-out war.

And Demi was in the middle of it.

**Very nice this time of year? **he asked weakly.

The Dark Triforce just laughed.

* * *

"They're gonna give me hell, aren't they?" Prince Zora asked as he and his friend Trent swam through the murky water toward Zora's Domain. 

"Not as much as they'll give me!" Trent shot back. "'Traitor to our kind,'" he quoted, mimicking the deep voice of the King. "'Ungrateful miscreant.'"

"They give you that speech every day!" Prince Zora said. Then he sighed. "I guess we'll just have to deal with it. Let's go."

"Ah, shit," Trent said as his tail slowly turned green, then blue. "I need to re-dye my tail, though!"

"You'll live," Prince Zora said.

* * *

The monsters all stood in a row, staring straight ahead with their sky blue, pupiless eyes. Every few seconds they'd flex their long yellow claws and swung their long, vine-like arms. 

Two old women stood in front of them. "Monsters!" Kotake screeched. They all stood at attention. "Dig!" she added, pointing at a wall of dirt.

They were in a huge underground chamber of Koume's design. It was basically a cavern of dirt.

The monsters all stepped forward and began clawing at the dirt, shoving it behind them as they ran. Digging didn't affect their speed at all. In seconds, they were out of sight, creating a tunnel as they ran in the direction of Kakriko Village.

"Perfect!" Kotake crowed. "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

"The Sheikah won't know what hit them!" Koume agreed. "Now let's go. We need to be ready."

Cackling to themselves, they made their way back to their hut.

* * *

"Whoa!" A gigantic brown hand reached over and picked up Demi, setting him on the ground a few feet away. "What do you think you're doing!" The creature looked Demi over. "You're not a soldier, are you?" 

"N-no, I'm just visiting a . . . friend."

The monster sighed. "I hope your friend's still alive, kid." It glanced back in the direction of the battling. "I think the only place you'll be safe is the river."

"No! Wait! I can't go in there!"

"Nonsense! You'll be safer than you are out here."

"But--" The monster tossed him gently into the river. For a panicked second, Demi thought he'd be pulled back to Lake Hylia, but the current dragged him in the other direction, toward a little stone grate next to a gigantic wall. Most likely that led to the castle. He climbed onto the grate, then onto the ground. Across a stone bridge, he could see the battle. It hadn't yet reached this side of the bridge. He wondered why.

He climbed up the steps to a gate. Beyond the gate he could see a village. In the center of the village were five people. All of them had bright red eyes and wore tight navy blue outfits that looked like fighting clothes.

And one of them looked strangely familiar . . .

* * *

Jade stood in the center of Kakariko, holding her baby girl (who was named Jade as well--Tia's idea, _not_ hers!) and discussing strategy with the other four leaders. Since Jade couldn't fight, she'd become an expert at strategy. Jade was discussing her plan with the others. 

"I think we should . . . oh Din."

It couldn't be . . .

She was just imagining it . . .

There was no way he'd be here . . .

But he was.

"Demi."

* * *

I'm so happy. Can anyone else feel the climax approaching? I can. Although I should be able to . . . Again, Amanda review this chapter or I'll have Jackie shove a ballpoint pen up your nose. I have a ballpoint pen, you know. Seriously. You only have to write a word or two. 


	32. Posession

. . . I have nothing to say. Oh, but I dedicate this to Amanda because . . . well, you'll see.

_

* * *

_

_Chapter Twenty-Two_

Just thought I'd remind you all of people's ages:

Daphy: 21

Zel: 20

Demi: 20

Jade: 20

Tia: 16

Impa: 17

Nabby: 17

Gan-Gan: 17

Zel Jr: 9 months

Jade Jr: 10 months

* * *

_Oh. My. Freaking. Goddesses._

"Hello," Demi said cooly.

_Oh my FREAKING Goddesses._

"I was looking for a friend of mine, and I thought you might be able to help."

_Oh . . . myfreakingGoddesses._

"Do you know a girl--well, woman, I guess--named Zelda?"

_OHMYFREAKINGGODDESSES!_

It was her.

What was she doing here?

She looked the same, but radically different. Her eyes were still red, but they didn't have that same hard, uncaring look. Now they were wide with surprise. Her hair was the same jet-black, but it was longer, down to her chin. She was taller, stronger, and wore the same battle outfit the others did.

"Demi," she breathed, looking at him in amazement.

He glanced away. He couldn't deal with this. Not when he was looking for Zelda. He turned to one of the other girls. "Do you know where I could find someone named Zelda?"

"You mean . . . the queen?"

Demi shrugged. Only Zelda would have made herself queen of a country in a year. "Maybe."

"Well, she's up at the castle." The girl pointed at the big structure outside the village. "Go in there, through the Market, then up to the castle. Good luck."

"Demi," Jade repeated, her voice stronger. "Demi, look at me."

He did. He met her eyes and was shocked (again). She wasn't some rebellious, brash girl he'd first met, or the desperate, lonely one he'd left behind. She was brave, and happy, to an extent. And still lonely. But she was okay. Or, at least, she'd be okay.

Demi couldn't ruin that for her.

He looked away. "I don't think I'm who you think I am, Miss," he murmured. It was true. "Thank you for your help."

He turned and left for the castle, trying not to run.

* * *

"Excuse me, Sir. I can't let you in to see the Queen." The guard crossed his arms. 

"But we're old friends! She'll _want _to see me!" Demi pleaded. Although he wasn't at all sure Zelda would want to see him.

The guard held up a piece of paper. "This is the list of who the Royal Family is expecting. You are not on this list. So you can't come in."

"She doesn't know I'm coming! It's a surprise!"

"You cannot enter without an appointment, sir. Schedule an appointment, then you can come in."

Demi sighed. This was supposed to be the easy part. "May I have an appointment, then?"

"I'm sorry. The Royal Family is not scheduling any appointments, for safety's sake. Now, if you'll please step aside . . ."

Demi wanted to punch the guard's face in, but he stepped aside, sitting down on the ground outside the gate. He'd had _no _trouble getting into the Market, which was basically empty, like the other village. The only obstacle he'd faced so far was this . . . _dumb-ass guard_. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply, then stood once he could control his emotions.

A year of pirate training hadn't been wasted on him. He smiled.

If Maria knew what he was thinking of doing . . .

He turned and walked away from the castle gates.

* * *

Jade let her hair hide her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and concetrated on breathing deeply. _No emotion, no emotion, _she told herself, feeling tears prick her eyelids. 

"Jade?" One of the boys, Darren, put an arm around her shoulders. "What's the plan?"

That was as "sweet" and "tender" as the Sheikah got. She apprciated that. "Right," she said, looking up and forcing a smile. "I think it would be better if we went down to the Caverns. I need to take stock of what weapons we have."

It sounded good. She could tell by the others' expressions that they were impressed.

Unfortunately she was fighting to keep from falling apart.

* * *

Koume and Kotake sat on the floor, facing each other. Their palms were lightly touching. Their eyes were closed. 

"The monsters are in place," Kotake whispered. "They're waiting for the signal."

Koume smiled. "Let's give it to them."

Kotake took a long drink of something steaming. "And hope the Sheikah go up in smoke."

* * *

"Perfect," Jade proclaimed ten minutes later, straightening and giving the Sheikah a smile. It was easier to fake it now. Her voice no longer shook, and she could look the others in the eye now. Except for Darren. His eyes followed her, and she figured he knew something was seriously wrong. She did her best to ignore him. 

"Here," she said, handing them the papers. "What do you think?"

One of the older Sheikah opened her mouth, but suddenly the papers caught fire. "What . . . ?" she wondered, but was cut off as they heard a scream.

They ran out into the hall, where Sheikan were running around, grabbing weapons and clothes and were shouting to each other.

"What's going on?" Darren asked in his calm, steady voice, taking the arm of one of the men running by.

The man stared at him, his eyes wide. "It's the strangest thing," he said. "But all over the Caverns, there have been random fires set, apparently without a cause."

Jade's face paled. "Tia," she whispered. Before they'd gone down to the weaponry, Jade had given her daughter to Tia.

"We have to leave," the older Sheikah said. "Immediately."

"I have to find Tia!" Jade insisted.

"But--" the Sheikah argued.

"I'll go with her," Darren offered, and took off, grabbing Jade's arm. "Where's Tia?" he asked.

"She said she'd wait in my room," Jade told him. "This way."

Hearing the screams of terror, Jade and Darren made their way through halls that were already filling with smoke, blindly running toward Jade's room, hoping they could get out in time.

* * *

Five minutes earlier, Tia was sitting on Jade's bed, playing with the baby. 

"You're a beautiful girl," she told Jade Jr. "You'll defiinitely break some hearts when you grow up."

"Tia!" Impa suddenly burst into the room. "We have to get out of here! Now!"

"Why?" Tia asked.

"There's a fire! We have to get out now!"

"But I have to wait here for Jade," Tia declared.

"You don't have time!" Impa grabbed her arm and began pulling her out of the room.

Tia bit her lip. Impa had always looked at her as a little sister, but Jade had trusted her with the baby . Tia couldn't just leave.

"But, Impa . . ."

"I don't care, okay!" Impa glared at her, and Tia was reminded painfully of Sheik's death. Impa had taken it hard--harder than Tia, even--and it was clearly important for Impa not to lose anyone else.

"Fine." _Please let Jade be okay, _Tia prayed.

They were only a few feet from the exit (the hallways were already filled with smoke and people) when they froze. Blocking the exit were at least twenty monsters. They were like nothing Tia had seen before. They were taller than the tallest Sheikah, and fought like maniacs. It took everything the Sheikah had to beat just one.

"The other exits will be blocked," Impa said.

"Absolutely," Tia agreed.

"The Gerudo's doing."

"No doubt."

Impa looked at her. "You do see their plan, right?"

"They set fires all over the Caverns and use these things to block the exits. By the time we kill them all, we'll be burned alive." Tia shrugged. "Makes sense."

"Stupid Gerudo," Impa hissed. "But they had to have come from somewhere!"

"Yeah," Tia agreed. "Probably outside the exits."

Impa snapped her fingers. "Come with me," she said. They ran down deeper underground. There were no people down here--they'd all gone upstairs to escape the smoke. It was ten times thicker down here.

Tia coughed. "What are we doing here, Impa!" she shouted, closing her eyes against the smoke and heat. "There's fire down here!"

"There's fire everywhere! Come on!" Impa yelled back. Tia forced her way through the smoke and found herself in a circle of fire. The heat was unbearable. "IMPA!" she screamed. "We have to get out of here NOW! We'll die!"

Impa made a tower of crates and climbed to the top. She tugged on the burned wood. It had weakened in the fire. Using her knife, she gouged a hole in the ceiling. She closed her eyes as dirt fell on her. She continued digging through the dirt.

"Impa!" Tia called, coughing. "Do you know how much dirt you have to go through to reach the top!"

Impa continued scraping, as though they had all the time in the world. Suddenly she hit rock.

"Oh, noooo," Tia moaned. It was too late for them to get out.

They were going to burn alive.

* * *

"Where is she?!" Jade demanded. 

They were standing in Jade's room. Tia wasn't there.

"She must have left," Darren said, taking Jade's arm. "She's probably already outside. And I suggest we do the same."

Jade nodded, feeling dazed.

Darren opened the door . . . and was greeted by a wall of flames.

"We're trapped," Jade murmured. "I don't believe it."

Darren wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay," he said calmly. "We'll find a way out."

They searched the room over several times. There was no way out.

"I'm sorry, Jade," Darren said as the heat and smoke enveloped them and flames licked under the door.

"Don't be," she replied thickly. "It's my fault anyway."

"Not for this." His expression was dead serious, and he looked a lot older than twenty-four.

"What, then?"

"I'm sorry I didn't do this the first time I met you." He leaned over and caught her lips in a long, soft kiss. When he pulled away his expression was apologetic. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."

Jade raised her eyebrows. "Are you kidding?" she asked incredulously. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulled him toward her, and kissed him again.

And even in the face of death, with heat and smoke making it nearly impossible to breathe, Jade was happy.

* * *

Impa dug around the stone, staring in defeat at the mortar that surrounded the rock. She'd never be able to break that enough to move the stone. 

"Tia . . . I'm so sorry." She really thought it would work.

Tia smiled. "Don't worry about it, Impa." She held the baby close to her chest, beneath a ratty old jacket. It used to belong to Sheik, and despite the agonizing heat, she kept it on, sheilding Jade Jr.

"No! It's not!" Angrily Impa pounded her fist into the rock. _We need help, _she thought, closing her eyes.

A crumbling sound made her look up. The mortar was breaking and disintegrating. "YES!" she shouted. They had a chance. "Take a deep breath, Tia!" she pulled the rock out, clutching it to her chest.

Water gushed onto them, dousing the flames and filling the room. Only two of the ten-high stacked crates were above water.

"The well," Tia whispered in awe. "Of course."

Impa shoved the rock into and through the hole, then climbed out herself. "Give me the kid," she called down. Tia passed her up.

"I'm coming!" she yelled, giddy at the thought of surviving. As she began to climb out, a hand grabbed her foot. She screamed, kicking it wildly. She saw one of the monsters. It stared at her with its creepy eyes. "Impa!" she wailed in panic.

Impa grabbed her arms and yanked her out of the monster's grasp, dropping the stone back in place. "Uh, whoever made the mortar crumble, if you could make it uncrumble, that would be very helpful!" she said, not sure who she was speaking to.

And it did. The furious cries of the monster echoed up the well. "Thank you," Impa added. She thought she heard the sound of women laughing, but she wasn't sure.

"Tia?" she asked, scrambling over to where Tia was kneeling. "Are you okay?"

Tia picked up the baby, stroking her head and smiling. "Yeah. I'll be okay."

"Then let's go." They carefully climbed the ladder that ran down the side of the well. To hold Jade Jr--now the only Jade--Impa cut off some of her suit. It came down to the bottom of her ribcage, and started again at her hips, but between that was a large hole in her outfit.

"What do ya know," Impa said with a grin. "It's got two pieces now."

They fashioned that cloth into a sling that Tia held Jade in.

When they climbed out of the well, a woman and her child were staring at them. "What's that noise?" the little boy asked.

"Um . . . The well's haunted," Impa said. "Don't go near there. Oh, and it needs a little water."

Just inside the gates, Tia turned to Impa. "Listen, I don't think I can handle this," she said. "Being here, in this war . . . and what happened to the others . . . I can't do it. I'm sorry."

"There's a chance some got out," Impa said hopefully.

"You know they didn't."

Impa sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"I'm sorry," Tia repeated.

"Go ahead," Impa said hollowly.

"I think I'll go to Ryia. With Jade."

"Okay."

"Bye." Tia looked so miserable.

"Bye." Impa was having trouble putting more emotion into herv voice.

Tia went to one of the houses and borrowed a cloak. She wrapped it around herself, and began to leave.

"Be safe!" Impa added desperately.

Tia smiled. "I will," she said, then left.

Impa stood and stared after her. When she shook herself out of her trance, she began her trek to the castle.

She had to tell the Royal Family what had happened. She needed to figure out what to do.

* * *

Demi knelt on the wall. He could see a room with pink curtains. He hoped it was Zelda's room. 

He'd killed himself to get over the walls, around the guards and up onto this interior wall. If that wasn't her room . . .

He'd pretty much die.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz  
(I stole this idea from Jackie. It shows that I'm going to a different person, but no time's passed. Otherwise people would be more confused than they already are).

Zelda smiled at her daughter, then stepped out to the window and threw it open. She needed some fresh air.

She squinted. Was there something out there?

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

It was her! Demi waved, but she didn't see him. She sighed, and went back inside.

She looked so different. Her long blonde hair was piled up on top of her head elegantly, and she was wearing a dress that probably cost more than most of the houses in Fotmea. She'd lost a bit of weight, too, but not much. Just enough to make her cheekbones stand out more prominently and her dress to hang a little off her shoulders.

Demi sighed. He loved her so much. At least, he _thought _he did.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Zelda pulled her hair out of its bun with a long sigh. Where was Daphnes? He'd gone down to the throne room to plead with the advisors (who were basically people that told Zelda and Daphnes when they screwed up) to go fight. She figured the advisors would say no. He _was _the King, after all.

She really, _really _wanted them to say no. They'd already vetoed her ever going anywhere near a battlefield (the sexist jerks), and she'd be damned if she let Dpahnes go out there without her.

"Where is he?" Zelda asked Baby Zelda.

Baby Zelda farted.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," the queen (she couldn't get used to that title) said with a smile.

Daphnes came in the room. He looked at Zelda, then slowly shook his head. "Nope," he replied. "But there's someone here for you."

Impa followed Daphnes, looking tired, dirty, and slightly singed.

"What happened to you?!" Zelda demanded, sitting her down on the bed. "No, wait. Stop. Take a shower. Eat. Now!" She picked Impa up by the back of her suit and shoved her into the bathroom, then rang a bell for food. She then turned to Daphnes. "What happened?"

"The Gerudo sent some of their monsters after the Sheikah and set fire to their home. Impa, some girl named Tia, and a baby were the only ones who made it out."

"Tia?" Zelda asked. "Oh! Sheik's sister! That girl who helped us find the Lens of Truth. How is she? Is she here? Can I see her?"

Daphnes shook his head. "Uh, no. She and the baby left for Ryia." He dropped his head into his hands. "But now we have to fix that, and strengthen the guard . . . everywhere, which means less people to fight in the army, which means that the Gerudo will win and take over Hyrule and the Triforce is _prohibited! _And there's absolutely nothing I can do about any of it. Not a damn thing is something I can solve without messing someone else up."

Zelda sat down next to him. "Can't you use the Triforce anyway? I mean, you _are _the King. What can they do?"

"Does the word _mutiny _mean anything to you? Besides, I'm supposed to set a _precedent." _Daphnes' voice was bitter and sarcastic.

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Who was this guy? Demi suddenly realized that for Zelda to be queen, there had to be a king. Oh no.

But who cared? Zelda had always liked Demi. When he came back, she'd leave that guy. He looked like a nairk, anyway. (CULTURE NOTE: In Fotmea, the guys thought it was cool to call the non-cool-people "nairks," (pronounced NAY-ARK) which was a word they made up. It was a lot less funny than they thought it was).

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"It'll work out."

"Yeah, I guess." He stood. "Anyway, I'm supposed to go figure out this whole mess. I'll be back . . . whenever."

Impa came out of the shower, dressed in her burnt clothes. Zelda hugged her. "You okay? Want anything?"

"Sleep would be nice," Impa said softly. She swayed, and Zelda caught her.

"All right, food's coming, so when the maid brings it up, I'll have her take you to your room. Okay?"

"Okay." Impa didn't seem to be focusing very well. Zelda felt so bad. But she couldn't do anything. She understood, on a different scale, how Daphnes felt. The frustrating hopelessness was horrible.

The maid came in with a tray of food, and Zelda sent both her and Impa to an empty room.

Daphnes let out a long sigh. "I have to go." He kissed her, then left.

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Demi froze. **Who . . . the hell . . . was that?**

Zelda was alone in the room. Shaking with barely controlled anger, Demi stood and made his way along the wall until it met with the castle wall.

_Don't upset yourself, _The Dark Triforce told him.

**You knew that she . . . that she . . .**

_Yes. That was one of the three things. Remember when I mentioned the Triforce? That there was a human Triforce, as well as the normal one?_

Demi shrugged. He did. Vaguely.

_The daughter is one of them. So is another child. I will need to find them both. And the other Triforce is in the posession of the King._

Demi ignored the Dark Triforce. It was pissing him off.

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Zelda tried to keep herself calm. It wasn't working. She was filled with an irrational fear, a feeling that something was wrong.

_Calm down, _she told herself, shivering in the warm air.

She sat down at the window seat, her long, graceful fingers entwining with worry. She glanced out the window, and her pale blue eyes widened. The battle was still going outside. She could only see a tiny bit of it, but that was enough. The scenes of carnage and screams of agony made her flinch, and she slammed the open window shut. It did little to dull the noise. She put one hand to her chest. She was breathing hard, as if having run a hard race. "Where is he?" she murmured, pacing back and forth, blocking out the battle cries below.

"Zelda."

"Daphnes?" She turned, but no one was there. Where did that come from?

The fear was growing, a tumor in her chest that wouldn't be killed.

Suddenly the world blew apart. The walls blasted inward in a shower of dust and smoke, and rocks rained down on her. She toppled backward and disappeared over the bed, out of sight.

The baby wailed. Zelda checked to make sure she was all right, then stood and looked around.

"How did _that _happen?" she asked the room. The roof was still intact; the room hadn't really exploded. Two walls still remained: the one leading to the rest of the castle, and the one opposite it, that led to the bathroom.

"Zelda."

She turned, and gasped. "Demi?" she asked incredulously, backing herself into the wall, next to Baby Zel's cradle.

He nodded. His eyes were cold and hard.

"Demi! What are you doing here!" Not the warmest welcome, but she was too stunned to be polite. Besides, it just wasn't in her nature.

"I don't know." He stepped forward, and Zelda was surprised. His curly black hair had grown longer than she'd ever seen it. His clothes were ragged. He looked old--well, he looked great, just like he'd seen too much in a short amount of time. "I thought I was here to tell my . . . friend that I loved her, and to take her home. But now . . . I don't know."

Realization hit her like a sledgehammer. "You were _spying _on me?" she asked.

"Why did you do it, Zel?" He stepped forward and picked up a clump of her hair, running it through his fingers. Zelda was too petrified to move. There was something about him that was terrifying. He seemed dangerous and unstable. "Why'd you go and fall in love? I was in love with you."

"But _I_ wasn't! I told you that!"

Demi froze. His eyes grew wide as he stared at her.

"Demi?" she asked. She was getting afraid.

Her voice made him snap.

"You BITCH!" he screamed. He began to shake. "You lying, cheating _bitch! _You act like you love me, and then you leave! You Goddess-damned _slut, _you go off with some _Prince! _Does HE know what a piece of _shit _you are?!"

All right, _now_ he was pissing her off. "What right do you have to call me that!" she shouted back. "You can't come here and act like I'm going to come and run away with you! I _never _loved you! Why the hell do you think I left in the first place!?"

Demi fell to his knees. He was trembling harder than ever. Zelda wondered if he was having a seizure.

He clutched his hair, breathing hard. Panicked, Zelda collapsed to the ground, pulling a pillow in front of her. Flimsy protection, but better than nothing.

The lights went out.In the blackness, everything seemed so much louder.

"Demi!" she shouted, needing proof that he was okay.

Glowing red eyes came out from the darkness.

And a sudden, loud scream pierced through the room.

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The Dark Triforce felt Demi's strength crumbling as he grew angrier. It knew that coming to Hyrule would be the final straw to cracking his willpower. Nothing like knowing that everything you've worked for is in vain, it thought to itself.

It poured every ounce of itself into taking control. As it won and Demi lost, his body became no-man's land. For a few moments no one was holding the reins to his body. He collapsed.

**Stop it! **Demi shouted. **Let me go!**

The Dark Triforce didn't answer. It didn't have to pretend to be nice to Demi. Demi was nothing more than a tool.

Once it had command over the body, it began changing him to suit its liking. The hair changed from black to red-brown, raising into devilish spikes. The nose and mouth elongated into a horselike snout. The ears migrated to the top of its head, turning into horse/dog ears, capable of hearing more sound than Hylians' ears. The eyes turned a bloody, glowing red. The skin lost all color, and yellowed claws grew out of the fingernails.

Demi looked hideous. Demonic. Frightening. He'd fit in well in the horrid Democres.

In the Dark Triforce's opinion, perfect.

The transformation was agony. But the Dark Triforce couldn't feel pain.

Demi began screaming bloody murder as he changed.

The lights had gone out. Zelda hadn't seen the change.

A sudden flash of light made the Dark Triforce cover its eyes. Zelda had lit a lantern, and she was gaping in horror at "Demi."

The Dark Triforce suddenly noticed the baby. How had he missed her? She was definitely the one. The human Triforce. She wasn't in possession of it, but she would be, if it separated. The essence of the Triforce came off her in waves of blue. Wisdom.

It stepped forward.

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Zelda saw Demi's eyes zero in on her daughter. She saw them widen hungrily.

The Dark Triforce wasn't gone. It had taken over Demi. She'd lost him, maybe forever. The hugeness of that made her want to cry.

It also made her seriously ticked.

_You're not taking my baby, _Zelda thought, squaring her shoulders and glaring at him. _Just try. I'll kick your ass_.

"Give me the child," Demi said. But of course it wasn't Demi. It didn't even sound like Demi. It was like someone had taken Demi's voice box, run it through a meat grinder, then stuck it back in his throat. It was all ripped and strained and hoarse.

"No way," she replied calmly.

He lunged forward and grabbed her neck. Zelda tried to scream but she couldn't. Sh was lifted into the air, kicking wildly.

Demi--no, NOT Demi!--stared at her, his red eyes unfeeling. He drew a huge knife with a serrated blade.

Zelda wasn't afraid. She was going to die, but she wasn't afraid. She just felt a wave of despair for Daphnes and Zelda. What was Daphnes going to do without her? And her daughter was going to die . . .

It was all her fault.

Everyone she ever met suffered.

It was always her fault.

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Daphnes was sitting back, resting his head on the armrest of his throne, waiting for some stuffy old guy to explain to him--again--WHY the Triforce was probhibited. He'd been doing so for at least ten minutes, but every time he tried to "recap," as he put it, he'd forget some detail and have to start "recapping" all over again.

"And so that is why we cannot use the Triforce. Do you understand, young King? We have to--"

BANG! The castle shook, and Daphnes almost fell off his throne. "What was _that?!" _he demanded, clambering back onto his seat.

"Oh, probably just one of the maids falling down the stairs or something," the old man (an "advisor," although when it takes ten minutes for said "advisor" to list five things, he should no longer be "advising") said dismissively. "Some of them are too large for anyone's good. Oh, blast, I've lost my train of thought. Well, to recap--"

"Shouldn't we go see what the problem is?" Daphnes was less gullible than most of the advisors believed, and he wasn't eager to hear the "recap" again.

"Oh, I don't know . . ." But Daphnes had already rushed past him. He could hear the advisor muttering, "Much too active for a proper King, yes, much too active."

Outside, people were looking around, trying to find the source of the noise. Daphnes grabbed a maid who was walking by. "Where did that noise come from?"

"Upstairs, I think," she replied shakily, blushing.

Daphnes ran upstairs.

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The Dark Triforce dropped Zelda. She hit the floor and climbed to her feet. It raised the blade.

**No, **Demi begged weakly.

It loomed over her, holding the knife. Zelda winced, but stood straight.

**NO!**

For a moment Demi took control of his body. He slammed Zelda back into the remaining wall, and pressed his lips to hers fiercely. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. Zelda was too shocked to respond.

The Dark Triforce shoved Demi away, taking the power back. Keeping his face inches from hers, he lifted the knife and slammed it into her chest.

She screamed, blood rushing over the wound. He ripped out the knife and stabbed her again. And again. And again. Each time he did, she let out a cry of pain, and jerked forward. Finally she stopped making any sound. He gently pulled the knife out, inspecting the crimson-stained metal.

"Zelda!" the young man burst into the room. The Dark Triforce stepped into the shadows. First he took in the missing walls, and the rubble on the floor. Then he saw Zelda. "What the . . . no." He collapsed next to her. He pressed his fingers against her throat. With moan of pain, he dropped his head, picking up one of Zelda's lifeless hands and stroking it.

When he finally looked up, The Dark Triforce was there, staring down at him with a hungry look in its eyes.

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Daphnes hooked his arm around Zelda's waist and pulled them both away from the . . . monster that stood before him.

It glared at him. "I only want the child," it said.

Daphnes glanced at Baby Zel, turned back, and noted the bloodstained blade. "Why?" he asked, sounding fairly calm, considering the circumstances.

"I want the child. Do not fight me. Step aside."

The cradle was behind him. Daphnes sighed, stood up . . .

. . . Grabbed the baby and ran. He ducked under the knife, running for the door.

BAM! It was blocked by what appeared to be the bath. Without breaking his stride, he turned and leapt out the big gaping hole in the wall.

The explosion had knocked out some of the wall below as well. Daphnes grabbed the floor of Zelda's room and swung into the room below it.

Which was apparently Impa's room. "Daphnes?" she asked in amazement. "What's going on?"

"Here." He handed her the baby. "Run."

Without asking any more questions, she held it close to her chest like a football and took off.

The second she was gone, the monster burst into the room. "Where is the child?" it demanded.

Daphnes' eyes flicked toward the door for an instant, then back to the monster's face. "She's gone."

The monster rushed through the door, knocking Daphnes back against the wall as it passed him.

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Impa stumbled as she made her way toward the kitchens (the only room in the castle she knew).

She had no clue what was going on, but when part of your wall is blasted apart and your King comes into your room from via the hole in your wall splattered in blood and holding a baby and telling you to take it and run, you don't argue.

She heard a noise behind her. She wasn't sure what it was, but it didn't sound good.

She wouldn't make it to the kitchens. She ducked into the first room she saw. It turned out to be a broom cupboard. Whatever.

Impa pressed herself against the back wall and tried not to breathe.

Something huge barrelled past her room. She couldn't see it, but she could hear it.

It was approaching . . . it was at her door . . . it stopped . . . and it moved on. She heard it go down a new corridor. She let out a huge sigh of relief.

BAM! Her door was thrown open. Impa started to scream, but a hand covered her mouth.

"Shut up! It's me!"

She nodded. Daphnes removed his hand. "May I?" he asked. She handed Zelda to him. He leaned forward. "Go to Zelda's room. Right above yours. Bring someone with you, though. Tell them it's King's orders. Then send guards to the room with the Triforce. All right?"

"No way. I'm coming with you."

Daphnes' eyes grew hard. ""No, you're not. I'm not letting anyone else get killed."

"What? Anyone _else? _What was that thing? What's going on--"

Daphnes turned and ran down the hall.

Impa shook her head and thought longingly of her bed, then sighed.

_What the hell was going on?_ she wondered.

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_What the hell is going on? _Daphnes wondered.

He was running down an empty hall, to the dungeons, with a monster/demon/thing on his heels, holding a baby. His wife was dead, and his room was demolished. And, on top of all that, people were sleeping obliviously, unaware of all this happening.

But he wasn't going to ask anyone for help. He wasn't going to risk anyone else's life.

Many people probably would have thought that was a stupid idea, had they been there.

So what? He was stupid.

He burst through the door and saw the Triforce. They had stuck it in an empty cell for reasons unknown.

Suddenly the monster lunged forward and smashed Daphnes back against a huge iron maiden that was mounted on the wall (which was quite a feat). The iron maiden in question had not been years for three generations, and Daphnes was making it one of his first "kingly duties" to destroy it. Zelda flew out of his hands. Wordlessly (this kid never showed expression, happy or sad) she fell to the floor ten feet below.

The monster caught her before she hit the ground. It held her gently, and picked up the long knife.

Daphnes, holding onto the iron maiden directly above the monster, did the only thing he could think of.

He dropped, landing on the monster's shoulders.

It let go of the baby.

Daphnes leapt off the monsters shoulder and dived wildly to catch Zelda. He landed on his face, but protected her from the stone floor. Forcing himself into a kneeling position, he checked to see if she was hurt.

Zelda, of course, was asleep.

The knife slashed the floor in front of Daphnes' face. He fell backward, scrambled to his feet, and ran for the Triforce. He grabbed it before the monster could reach him, and was encased in golden light.

He closed his eyes, pressing his palm to the Triforce's warm surface.

_I wish . . ._

* * *

The Dark Triforce opened its eyes. _Where am I? _it thought. 

"The child!" it exclaimed, sitting up.

It wasn't in Hyrule Castle. It wasn't in Hyrule, period.

Dark marshlands stretched as far as the eye could see; black water, red grass. The Dark Triforce was standing on a patch of purple-white sand. It glanced up and saw a monster pass over the sun. It was bright red and smoking.

It sighed, closing his eyes again.

**Where are we? **Demi asked weakly.

The Dark Triforce wasn't going to answer. But then he decided, what the hell.

_Democres._

**So you didn't accomplish anything. **Demi's "voice" was triumphant.

_Just because I couldn't kill the children now doesn't mean I won't be able to do it later. And the Triforce is always attainable, with careful planning. I've been set back. I have not been defeated._

Tired of talking, it stood, looking around. A few feet away a girl with a long beak, blue eyes, scaly skin, and a mermaid tail was pulling green catttails out of the water. She gave it a cold look.

It picked a long cattail and began drawing a plan in the sand.

It wasn't defeated. It wasn't even close.

The Dark Triforce was on the move . . .

* * *

Wow. I'm almost done. I've felt so many mixed feelings about this chapter. Parts of it made me want to cry . . . and others were very funny. Just a little more to go. I'm afraid of the moment when I have to write "The End." I think I'll cry. Man, no more cheesecake for me. It's making me emotional. AND I LOVE DAPHNES!!!!!!! 


	33. Epilouges

Uh . . . the last leg of this story. Epilouges. 'Nuff said. It's very short.

* * *

_#1: Demi _

I'm tired. I just want to sleep.

I'm a prisoner in my own body. If I can call it my own. The Dark Triforce distorted it so much, I don't even know if it can be called mine.

It killed her. It killed Zelda. And I couldn't stop it.

I would have, if I could. Really. I loved her, I think. And I think she loved me too. I don't care what she said. I know she did.

I'm just running in circles . . .

Democres is hell. Demons every foot, each as messed up as me. They all try to kill each other, except for one woman. She's got cat-ears and whiskers, and big bat wings. Her eyes are red, and her skin is purplish-black. She has long black hair, too. As far as demons go, she's downright beautiful. Her son will probably be even more normal. The Dark Triforce says that baby is half-Hylian. How any Hylian could have . . .

But anyway. She's the only one who doesn't fight and try to kill people. We're staying with her for Din knows how long.

I'm such a monster. I can't get over that. I'm a monster, and not just how I look. Monsters kill people. Monsters cause pain and suffering. Monsters mess up people's happiness.

I'm so tired . . . I have to sleep.

Maybe I'll wake up and this will all have been a bad dream . . .

* * *

_#2: Tia_

Ryia's not nearly as exciting as Hyrule. I've only been here for a half hour and already I'm bored out of my mind.

It's such a relief.

I feel terrible for what I did to Impa. I mean, I just left her. But I couldn't stay in Hyrule. Jade can't grow up in a war. I hope she understands. The second I got here I wrote her a letter. I think it'll be enough to make her understand. She gets things like that.

Jade's so _loud_. She's very hot-tempered for such a little thing. I can tell she'll be a great warrior when she gets older. Hopefully she won't have to face any war.

I feel strange. My head's killing me, and I feel all achy. I hope this isn't some weird disease Jade can catch. I think I'll just go to bed.

At least this whole nightmare is behind me. I need a fresh start

* * *

_#3 Daphnes_

Zelda's dead. I can't believe she's gone.

I can't accept it . . .

At least Baby Zel's still alive. I didn't realize how much I cared about her until now. It's like . . . she's all I have left.

The war seems to be drawing to a close. I have been working on a compromise to make with the Gerudo. I know most of them want this war to end. I don't think they can spare the people, and neither can I.

Poor Impa's become homeless. I know how she feels, though, to lose someone you love. I've asked her to help take care of Zelda. She'll need a mother, and Impa needs a home. She hasn't given me an answer yet, but I think she'll accept it.

I think everything might work out, after all. I've informed all the guards not to let anyone from Democres (where else could that monster have come from?) into Hyrule. Our allies from Termina have promised to do the same.

I've hidden the Triforce in the safest place I can imagine. I don't think anyone will discover it. I know I'll never go within ten feet of it again.

The Triforce has caused too much pain and suffering. It must never be found again.

_The End

* * *

_

Well, that's it . . . I guess. I've got a sequel coming up . . . and it has Link! I can't wait. I just need to work out what happens . . . but it'll be a lot of fun.  
Keep an eye out for "The Dark Triforce." It's a several-part (three or four sections, I think) fic, so it'll be very different. But it'll have Demi . . .though he might be a little different. That's all for now. I'll see you later.


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